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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096423">Surviving the Hellhole named the Hunger Games</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Apus/pseuds/Aquila_Apus'>Aquila_Apus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Best Friends, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Sidemen, So here we are, anyways clingyduo supremacy, author still has no idea how to use tags, comment if i should add more tags and what tags to use because i really have no idea how to use tags, i bingewatched compilation videos to at least get a shred of characterization right, i just watched hunger games and said wow lets make this into a dsmp au, not that much since my soft heart can only take so much, or at least I try to, why are my chapters so short tf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Apus/pseuds/Aquila_Apus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo says softly and Tommy turns his head to look at the soft blue eyes of his friend. “We’ll both be fine, ok, big man?”</p><p>Tommy nods, hesitating, since he couldn’t shake the thought of Tubbo’s body being the one flashed on television next. </p><p>or, </p><p>your author attempts to make a Dream SMP Hunger Games AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Minx | JustAMinx &amp; Niki | Nihachu, Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>201</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Selflessness of Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I made the reaping gender neutral because there are hardly any women in the Dream SMP *cries*</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The masses of children, all dressed up, had the same grim expression in their faces.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo, were one of them. Both were brothers, even though unrelated by blood and held each other's hands tightly, nervous and unexpecting of their fate. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo was a brunette of the age of seventeen and was one year older than Tommy. He wore an olive green shirt, too big for him and messily tucked on his blue denim jeans. He had cobalt blue eyes, which were lighter than Tommy’s azure ones. The younger boy of the two wore a red and white shirt matching with khaki jeans. </p><p> </p><p>“Tommy, you don’t have to grip my hand that hard. I’m here, man.” Tubbo says, trying to make the tension lighter. </p><p> </p><p>“I know, Big T. But it’s just, it’s just so <em> nerve wracking </em>every time we have this god awful Reaping.” Tommy confesses, fear evident in his tone. Tubbo had one year left to experience such a hellish event while Tommy had two. The older teen would always keep his fear in check, since he didn’t want to make Tommy anymore panicked then he should be. </p><p> </p><p>He had an experience already with this kind of stuff, since he himself has two younger sisters, who gratefully aren’t in the age to experience Reaping yet. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yet.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thinking about his innocent sisters having to experience the sickening fear he’s had for seven more years rises bile into Tubbo’s throat. </p><p> </p><p>But, he can be here for Tommy.</p><p> </p><p>Because there’s a chance he will never be there to calm his sisters once they go through a revolting event. He’s made peace with that. </p><p> </p><p>He knew that it was his duty to volunteer once Tommy unluckily got reaped.</p><p> </p><p>If only Tommy doesn’t volunteer himself for the next tribute. </p><p> </p><p>But, the blonde knew that Tubbo would definitely volunteer himself in case he was picked. </p><p> </p><p>“Happy Hunger Games, District 7!” a booming voice that everyone identified as the Capitol’s escort. She received no reaction, only cold silence that feared for their luck. </p><p> </p><p>She continues on, the same enthusiasm within her as she had received this reaction so many times before. </p><p> </p><p>The speech has become an imprint in both boys’ minds, the posh and shrill voice just a reminder that this was happening right now. Their hands have somehow gripped tighter when the same video of President Jschlatt talked about how the Hunger Games were the consequences of the Districts’ actions and was a reminder of the so-called “peace” that was upheld upon it. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo could sense Tommy’s jaw clench with anger. He knows that it must’ve been hard for him since one of their older friends, Wilbur, died from the past Hunger Games. </p><p> </p><p>He could remember the sobbing and yelling of Tommy that would always, <em> always </em>blame Schlatt. He lost count of the times that Tommy cursed the cruel dictator and his repulsive Hunger Games, lost count of the amount of tears he’s shed and lost count of the amount of times he’s hugged Tommy to sleep. </p><p> </p><p>Wilbur was afterall Tommy’s brother figure in life. He could understand the pain that was brought to him, seeing Wilbur slowly inch to insanity and deciding to kill himself with the explosives he kept for his supposed trap for the other competitors. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t see the body itself, but the ripped pieces of his trench coat, maroon beanie and remnants of burned flesh gave it all away. It was all way too much to see on television. Wilbur’s family wailed, Tommy screaming at the tv and Tubbo silently crying.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo says softly and Tommy turns his head to look at the soft blue eyes of his friend. “We’ll both be fine, ok, big man?”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy nods, hesitating, since he couldn’t shake the thought of Tubbo’s body being the one flashed on television next. </p><p> </p><p>“Now,” the escort beamed, “our Tributes.”</p><p> </p><p>The two boys’ throats go dry.</p><p> </p><p>“The Tributes’ genders are all mixed up in the bowl, as always. Let’s hope we can get a pretty girl, hm?” The crowd goes silent, somehow more silent than before, fear and silent prayer entrapping their voices. Her hand snakes into the bowl and snaps her hand, fast and quick, to get a single lot of paper.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo prays, silent and real, hoping for it not to be Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>And it thankfully wasn’t him. </p><p> </p><p>“Toby Ander.”</p><p> </p><p>But it was Tubbo himself.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo visibly whitens, his hand slacking out of the hold of Tommy’s, complete and utter shock enveloping his senses. Tommy snapped his head fast and quickly to look at the brunette in silent despair, and then screamed, a blood curdling scream full of agony for his one and only friend. </p><p> </p><p>“TUBBO NO!” His fingers scrambling to entangle themselves in Tubbo’s cold and almost desolate ones. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s vision is in a haze, whizzing around as the Peacekeeper has his hand on his back. Another Peacekeeper is between Tommy’s frantic and deprived hands, clawing desperately for Tubbo.</p><p> </p><p>His legs weren’t even moving anymore, still frozen by the shock, the Peacekeeper forcibly pushing him as the only way to get into the stage. He could hear the wails and screams of his sisters, the sound stuck forever in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on the stage, Toby. There, good.” the escort chirps. “Your friend there called you Tubbo. Is it your nickname?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes it is.” Tubbo replies, with a soulless voice and even more soulless eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“It is a <em> very </em>cute one, if I must say.” she giggles, contradicting the pained screams of Tommy and the sobbing of his sisters.</p><p> </p><p>“For our next Tribute,” the escort says, her hand doing the same procedure as before. </p><p> </p><p>“Elijah Mit-” Before she could complete the name of the supposed Tribute, Tommy shouts and waving his hand desperately. “I volunteer! I volunteer! Fuck, just pick me instead!”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s eyes widened. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. “Tommy, don’t! You have to take care of Lani and Teagan. What would happen if I was-” he stops, knowing that that would fuel Tommy’s pleading. But he was too late. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy knew the very words that would roll out of his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sixteen, Tubbo! Hell if I know what to do in taking care of kids. <em> You </em> should be the one to survive, not me!” he shakes his head in frustration and to look back to Tubbo’s eyes, now flooding with tears. “All I know is that I can’t take another death to cry on.” </p><p> </p><p>Guilt fills Tubbo’s heart.</p><p> </p><p>He’s been selfish. He thought of dying, not thinking of what emotional damage that will be dealt to both Tommy and his sisters. He overlooked how much Tommy depends on him now, since Wilbur, the one he always looked up to, died. He was selfish to think of sacrificing himself for Tommy to take care of his sisters when he was supposed to be the one to do it himself. </p><p> </p><p>He was so very, <em> very </em>selfish that he couldn’t stop the sob that escapes his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“T-this is a, well, very <em> drastic </em> change of events.” The escort attempts to bring back the enthusiasm she had. “So, what’s your name, young man?” she asks Tommy, the new Tribute. </p><p> </p><p>“Tommy. Tommy Innit.” he says, as he rises up to the platform, standing opposite to Tubbo.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, District 7, here are your Tributes!” she exclaims, excitement lacing her words as she holds each one of their arms up. “Toby Ander and Tommy Innit!” </p><p> </p><p>The crowd doesn’t give any applause, only silent approval and gratitude in their faces for not being reaped. </p><p> </p><p>The two boys leave with the escort by their side, guiding them to the town hall to say their farewells to their families, making Tubbo nervous and guilty. He can’t bear to see his sisters’ faces of utter despair and to tell them that he would survive, when he knew full well he wouldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>The two teens were very far from fit, as they’ve never touched a weapon before, giving them an automatic disadvantage.</p><p> </p><p>But they were quick, nimble and were light. They would be able to run and escape as fast as they can. They’re enemies are bound to be massive from all the muscle, making their weight reduce their speed. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo began to think, planning incomplete plans to at least have <em> something, </em> <b> <em>anything</em> </b> <em> - </em></p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted as Tommy’s hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Tubbo, we’ll be fine alright? You said it yourself. We’ll be fine.” he says, as if he’s not only convincing Tubbo, but him as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Right,” he replies back, the image of Tommy’s corpse by his side flashing into his eyes, making his throat dry. “Right...”</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to make both of them survive, in any way possible. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes I made a made up a last name for Tubbo because he said he was uncomfortable with people using his real name online. Yes I based it with Tubbo Underscore. My genius is sometimes... terrifying.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Uncharacterized Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The farewells that they experienced were as gut wrenching as thought.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s sisters sobbed at him, their tears and snot wiped around the olive shirt he wore. His mother looked as lifeless as her reaction to the death of his father and he had to mutter empty promises of survival to calm his siblings down. </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Tommy’s family was hysterical, their emotions unrestrained. They screamed at him, angry and emotional tears rolling down their cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>They curse their son for his foolishness, but softened once they heard the reason for such recklessness, leading them to hug a weeping Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>They walk out of the town hall with heavy hearts, the words that were uttered to them sticking into their minds and into the train with their trainers.</p><p> </p><p>Their minds still hazy from all the tears they’ve shed, they didn’t even notice the blonde clad in emerald robes standing in front of them. </p><p> </p><p>The man clears his throat so that the two boys would acknowledge his presence, and he was successful, resulting in them to snap their heads up to match the soft and comfortable blue gaze of the older blonde. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be Tommy and Tubbo,” the man says, shooting a parent-like smile.</p><p> </p><p>They nod their heads in response. The teens couldn’t help but be comforted by the man’s presence, for his kindness felt so natural compared to the artificial chirping of their escort. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil.” the man, Philza, says with utmost ease. “Your other trainer is in the train right now. I just thought that it would be better to greet you beforehand, y’know? Comfort you a little bit before you get overwhelmed on what’s to come.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Philza, </em>the name familiar in the two boys’ heads. Where did they hear this man’s name again?</p><p> </p><p>Their eyes widen when Philza turns around, them seeing his back.</p><p> </p><p>His back had greyish artificial wings clipped into it. The wings almost seemed natural, but the steel skeleton that supported them gave away its true origin. These were the very wings that the 23rd Hunger Games champion used to attack enemies, him making it with the resources of fallen contestants. It was much messier on its debut, using large leaves, clothes of those he killed and anything he got from random backpacks. </p><p> </p><p>He was able to kill three contestants, with him flying around the trees. The whole of Manberg was amazed by the invention, which was just made with scraps. He started it with a huge leap, and spread his arms and the wings would follow soon after. It was a beautiful and terrifying sight to see the blonde graciously kill his victims, the blood soiling the makeshift wings.  </p><p> </p><p>The champion was 18 that time, and had seven kills in his hands; counting the deaths he was able to bring without his wings. He was soon nicknamed as The Angel of Death.</p><p> </p><p>It was a Hunger Games that didn’t even take place when both boys were born. </p><p> </p><p>Philza noticed the open gaping, and laughed, a silly and contagious sound, amused with the silent understanding of the two.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know who I am now?” he asks, which the two boys answer with a nod. “Then you’d be <em>frightened</em> when you meet the next one.” </p><p> </p><p>That comment alone made the friends pale with nervousness and fear. </p><p> </p><p>Soon after that comment, Philza attempts to make idle conversation. The two boys agreed to it, them feeling comfortable already with the man. Tommy even used his affectionate nickname, big man, on their trainer. The man laughed boisterously on what a silly nickname it was and patted his head affectionately, leading Tommy to blank out for a full minute and then exploding with embarrassment. </p><p> </p><p>The comfortable aura then quickly diminished when they ended up standing in front of the lavish train. “Alright, so,” Philza says, a hint of nervousness in his tone. “Your other trainer isn’t a very friendly one.” The two boys gulp, their hands already shaking.</p><p> </p><p>“My advice is to not talk much to him, since he uh- well,” he coughs. “He absolutely <em> despises </em> conversation with strangers.”</p><p> </p><p>As the door of the train opens, they squint their eyes, in fear of an intimidating and fearsome image.</p><p> </p><p>What they saw was not what they had in mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Oooohhh, who’s a good boy?” the deep voice coodles affectionately. They fully open their eyes now to see a pink haired man dressed in overly regal clothing, cuddling a cloud of a dog.</p><p> </p><p>Philza stifles a giggle and instead coughs to announce their presence. </p><p> </p><p>The pinkette abruptly stops petting the dog and stands upright, his face red with embarrassment. </p><p> </p><p>“O-oh, Phil. And the, um, Tributes?” he looks at Phil in a sort of question if he was right and Phil nods, his eyes stinging with stifled laughter. </p><p> </p><p>The two boys unfortunately had no control and full on laughed, boisterous and loud. </p><p> </p><p>“PAHAHAH” Tommy laughs, Phil being a tiny concerned on the teen’s vocal cords, while Tubbo giggles, holding Tommy’s shirt sleeve in dear life. </p><p> </p><p>The pinkette hides his face with one hand, red with embarrassment on his uncharacterized introduction. “Phil, you should’ve told me that the Tributes were comin’.” He grumbles. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, mate. You were busy sleeping, so I didn’t want to interrupt you. Besides, I thought you would have known they were coming.” he says, still light from laughing and patting the shoulder of his friend reassuringly. </p><p> </p><p>“I knew, but I didn’t think it would be this early.”</p><p> </p><p>“Techno, it is literally four pm.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought it would be five pm or somethin’.” </p><p> </p><p>“They changed it, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>“BrUhHHHhH”</p><p> </p><p>“PHIL SAID HE WAS GOING TO BE INTIMIDATING AND SHIT, BUT THEN HE GOES ALL SOFT ON A DOG! PAHAHHAHAH” Tommy laughs, pointing his finger on Technoblade as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>“I am goin' to kill that child at 6 am sharp tomorrow mornin’.” he says quietly, the threat only going to Phil’s ears, which Phil laughs at.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait for him to enjoy lunch first. It’s the best course in the whole day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, fine. <em> 1 pm </em>sharp.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i made techno a dork in this chapter but then soon enough i'll make him this cool character, so sorry (not sorry) if you were hyped to see that coolio version of him. also phil best dad. and there will be angst in the next chap or at least i try to idk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Walls that He Built</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dinner was something that Tubbo and Tommy never imagined.</p><p> </p><p>It had all these foods that they didn’t even know existed. </p><p> </p><p>As their hands struggled on the utensils, which Phil helped them on, they tried each and every one of the dishes. </p><p> </p><p>They didn’t even know what they were eating, all they knew was that it tasted good.</p><p> </p><p>While the two teenagers pile up numerous amounts of food, Techno only had a sole piece of baked potato, coated with mushroom sauce and Phil a piece of salmon with creamy vegetables on the side.</p><p> </p><p>“The heck? Eat cleanly at least.” Techno complains, annoyed as the food was falling from their chins. “You’re makin’ a mess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shaddap.” Tommy says as his mouth was full, resulting in Techno flinching on how disgusting the teen was.  </p><p> </p><p>“Forgive ‘em, man.” Phil says, as he finishes up his meal. “It’s their first time eating these kinds of food. They should enjoy it.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“As long as they can.</em>” Techno mutters underneath his breath, only Phil hearing the small sentence, the tone unreadable. A pang comes into his chest, as he knows what Techno was talking about.</p><p> </p><p>A thought comes into Phil, a thought that he wanted to share to the two boys. He didn't think he should say it, but there's a voice in his mind pushing him those words to come out of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“Y’know, I never actually wanted to meet you.” Phil finally confesses, giving in to the voice that nagged him to.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s kind of rude, big man.” Tubbo says, him gulping the food he ate and looking at Phil with sad eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Phil laughs his same laugh, this time with a hint of sadness. “It’s because I knew if I met you two, <em>you’d be the Tributes.</em>” Tommy has fully stopped eating now, looking at Phil with confusion in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Phil continues. “I met your friend, Wilbur, before.” Tommy visibly stiffens.</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy, i-it’s ok if you want me to stop-” “No, no, it’s fine. I… I kinda want to know.” Tommy resolves.</p><p> </p><p>Phil looks at his hands, raw sadness in his eyes. “I met Wilbur at the last Hunger Games before, and I was his mentor, like every Tribute that came after me. While we would train, he would talk about you both.” His eyes have gone away from his hands now, and he looks at the sheer sadness in the two boys’ eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Well? Go on, Phil.” Tubbo says with a sad smile.</p><p> </p><p>“He’d talk about how he’d survive for the both of you. How eager he was to know how to survive. How thankful he was for me to train him.” Techno clenches his jaw as Phil bites his lip. </p><p> </p><p>“But he never did! Wilbur, that bastard, <em>never survived.</em> In fact, <em>he killed himself.</em> The fucker <em>killed himself</em> on live television when he fully knew we would watch!” Tommy says, frustration and anger boiling within him, banging his hands into the table. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo was silent, nodding to urge Phil to continue. </p><p> </p><p>“I-I never wanted children, since I didn’t want to have a child go through this hell hole. But, Wilbur, <em>Wilbur</em> wiggled into my heart like some mole and made me feel like he was <em>my own child.</em>” Phil says, his voice shaky with emotions. </p><p> </p><p>He looks at them fully now, drinking the completely agonized faces of the two. He blames himself for having to say that. He blames for having to share his emotional baggage to <em>children</em>-</p><p> </p><p>“Phil, thank you for telling this to us.” Tubbo says. “At least someone will pass on the memory of Will in case we die.”</p><p> </p><p>Phil looks at Tubbo's cobalt eyes, now teary with emotion and couldn't stop but choke in a sob with the comment. <br/> </p><p>"I-I'm sorry, but I have to leave. Floof must be hungry." Techno mumbles, hiding his tears with a fast movement and soon leaving the table. Tommy wordlessly leaves, him hiding his eyes with his arm.</p><p> </p><p>Philza and Tubbo stay at the table, tears streaming their eyes as well, eating their food in comfortable silence.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Why are you followin' me, Tommy?” Techno grumbles as he goes mindlessly through the hallways of the gorgeous train. Techno left, but he has no destination in mind, as long as he could run away from all conversation about Wilbur. </p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t know.” Tommy replies, silent.</p><p> </p><p>The pinkette sighs, turning around to fully look at the blonde teen. Tommy's eyes were blank and empty, the emotion flooding through behind those seemingly desolate azure orbs.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’know, now that I think about it, I never gave you a proper introduction.” Techno attempts to make some small talk.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you just the guy that goes all cuddly with dogs?” Tommy says, with a glint of humor in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Not my fault that my one weakness is small animals.” Techno gruffed in an amused way. “But no, that’s not all who I am, Tommy.” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s interest and curiosity is suddenly soaring from the mysterious choice of words, but he suppressed them and asked him slowly, “Then, who are you then?”</p><p> </p><p>Techno is fully glinting at him now, and it's Tommy’s first time seeing the pinkette fully. </p><p> </p><p>The ruby eyes on his pale face stands out like blood on a white cloth. The blood red jewel planted into the lace ascot cravat. The regal cape he wore made of crimson velvet, adorned with glistening golden chains and pure white fur. The crown looked like it was made by the light of the stars, the different colors of jewels looking like the planets. He seemed familiar, but Tommy couldn’t point his finger on it…</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Technoblade.” he says, his voice somehow deeper than his already deep voice. </p><p> </p><p>And Tommy shrieks, but he quickly covers it with his hand, assuring others that he is not being stabbed to death. He then makes wild motions with his hand, making him look like a duck in the water, and his face held a shocked expression that almost seemed comical. He points at Technoblade, stuttering sounds that Techno can only hope are cut out words and not some ancient language. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Holy shit.</em>” Tommy finally lets out, his eyes big and his mouth bigger. “You’re fucking <em>Technoblade.</em> H-Holy fuck. I was with the man himself. And I <em>laughed</em> at him.”</p><p> </p><p>“To be honest, you were about to die when you did that.” Techno says with amusement laced in his words.</p><p> </p><p>“I was about to die by <em>Technoblade</em> himself.” Tommy lets out breathlessly.</p><p> </p><p>The pinkette turns onto his heel, the blonde walking briskly to catch up.</p><p> </p><p>“Big Man! Eyyyy...” the blonde starts, trying to make things comfier for themselves.</p><p> </p><p>“I did not kill seventeen people for this.” the pinkette mutters underneath his breath.</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade was a legend that everyone who watched the Hunger Games knows. The man brought the bloodiest Hunger Games the whole of Manberg saw. It was the 35th Hunger Games, that one unlikely man was able to bring down seventeen contestants by himself with his sheer power. </p><p> </p><p>He had an eye-catching outfit similar to what he was wearing now, but it was more grandiose and detailed. The man’s pastel pink hair was braided delicately and his pale face accentuated with light peach makeup, making him look delicate and gentle, contradicting the strong crimson hues of his cape. And the golden crown, something that became his trademark, was as unforgettable as the man’s performance in the Hunger Games, with its jewels looking like droplets of each color in the world and the gold shining like the sun’s rays.  </p><p> </p><p>He was introduced as a sort of shy introvert that gave witty and comedic remarks, leading some people to be charmed by the pinkette. That was when his training score was shown, a bright and whooping number of 11, people suspecting that the man was not what he seemed. And they were right. </p><p> </p><p>His then pastel pink hair was soiled with red, looking like it was his natural hair color from the heavy amount of it. His once calming and comforting deep voice became one that screamed of blood and death to the scared contestants. While he survived in the Hunger Games, the cameras were always on him, leading him to play along to the public, throwing out jokes and faking over confidence that Manberg seemed to love. </p><p> </p><p>After his performance, he never showed his face to the public again. The interviews he had consisted only of his deep voice, as he claimed that the Capitol saw enough of it during his time in the Hunger Games. Which they gratefully understood as the man was actually only a boy.</p><p> </p><p>He was fourteen when he won the 35th Hunger Games. </p><p> </p><p>“Techno,” Tommy starts, finished with his flashbacks of the pinkette. “I envy you.”</p><p> </p><p>Techno stops walking, hiding the confusion in his eyes. Why would anyone be envious of a man who brought death to innocent children? He looks back now at Tommy’s azure eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re so powerful, unlike the other lot of us. You were able to survive the Hunger Games, just like Phil. I-I want to be like that too, y’know, <em>powerful.</em>” Now, where has Techno heard this befor-</p><p> </p><p>“I really admire that power of yours, Techno.” a voice sweet and sugary says. A voice that Techno remembers clearly. A voice that Techno wants to forget.</p><p> </p><p>Techno hides his shaking hands behind his back, preparing the facade he long ago memorized from the Capitol, a witty remark and cocky smile ready made in his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“If you want to be like me, <em>train for another one hundred years.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, Tommy doesn’t see through it and instead smacks his arm playfully with a loud laugh.</p><p> </p><p>He isn’t like Wilbur.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He isn’t like Wilbur.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He won’t let anyone go through his walls ever again. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>to clarify, i replaced panem with manberg because i felt like it idk, but the capitol is still the capitol since i already put it into the story so yuh get it. also, wow this chapter was later then i wanted it too smh. so, uh, sorry about that! I promise that I'm not nonexistent like Techno's stream schedule hahah *gets shot in the head*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Warm Feeling of Hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The brunette with the brown trench coat gives a mock salute to the camera, his eyes glinting with insanity and unhingedness and his smile radiating a tragic sorrow. </p><p> </p><p>“It was never meant to be.”</p><p> </p><p>The small fire caused by the flint and steel lights up the explosives creating a thick fog and as it lessens, bits of burned skin, fabric and misery is left.</p><p> </p><p>The man that Manberg has once fallen for has become an unstable and exploded mess. </p><p> </p><p>And people he affected have seen it all, the shock and sorrow filling up their hearts. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Techno wakes up in cold sweat, a sob escaping his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“Tech? Had another bad one?” Phil asks, still in the seat near Techno’s room.</p><p> </p><p>The pinkette nods wordlessly, his pastel pink hair a mess and crimson eyes frantic and distraught. </p><p> </p><p>The blonde picks up a glass of water ready made in the bedside table, and hands it to Techno, rubbing circles in his back to calm him down. </p><p> </p><p>“Was it a 35th Hunger Games one or a Tribute’s death one?” Philza asks with practiced caution. He already knew how this worked, as he’s seen the pinkette do this many times before, which prompted him to sleep into the comfy chair near Techno. Techno, like the worried and selfless friend he was, opposed to it, but Phil was a stubborn old man and of course, didn’t listen. </p><p> </p><p>After all, Phil couldn’t bear to sleep anymore in a comfy bed, as nightmares would haunt him too if he slept too deeply and comfortably. </p><p> </p><p>“...It was Wilbur’s death again.” Techno mutters as he finishes sipping the water. </p><p> </p><p>Phil was shocked. Usually the past Tributes’ death nightmares would end once new Tributes would come, and the ones that featured Techno’s traumatic experience in the arena would replace them. </p><p> </p><p>But, Techno still had the same nightmares from last year.</p><p> </p><p><em> He’s still connected to him. </em> Philza thinks grimly and sadly. <em> I thought that I’d be the only one who’s still in this pain. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> I need to do something for him and me to stop getting connected to the Tributes, only for them to die. </em> Philza resolves within his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Get some time to breath, okay, Tech? It’s already 7:00, so we’ll have to give Tommy and Tubbo some advice.” Philza pats his back reassuringly, as Techno wasn’t one for too many touches. The pinkette nods as he finishes the glass of water, looking at the blonde leaving his room.</p><p> </p><p>He gets up, now fixing his long hair with a brush on his bedside table. He picks a comfortable white ruffled top with bishop sleeves, paired with a wine colored corset and obsidian black pants. He wears his usual crimson cape, merlot red knee high platform shoes and braids his pink hair loosely and comfortably. </p><p> </p><p>And the crown. The crown he wears to play as the Technoblade everyone knows. </p><p> </p><p>The weight of that gold crown only reminds him that he has an audience, who watches his every move and expects him to act as the role he had mistakenly assigned to himself. </p><p> </p><p>He lets out a heavy breath, muttering the words people expect Technoblade to say, as if he’s rehearsing. </p><p> </p><p>He heads out of his room, hiding all pieces of his original and natural self.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“If you think about it, this cereal thing is a breakfast soup.” Tubbo says as he eats his breakfast with Tommy, which Philza informed them was cereal. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy spits out his cereal and into the bowl, laughing boisterously as Tubbo chortles at his friend’s reaction.</p><p> </p><p>“T-Tubbo, w-what the, what the fuck, man?” Tommy says in between laughs.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo shrugs as he goes back into eating his cereal. “I’m right though, so enjoy your breakfast soup.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m never looking at cereal the same way ever again...” Tommy says as he covers his face with his hands, still laughing although it has become significantly quieter. </p><p> </p><p>“Hallloooooo.” Techno greets as he comes into the dining room. “Where’s Phil?” He asks as he picks a chair from across Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>“The big man’s in the bathroom, probably taking a poo or something.” Tommy answers. </p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, Tommy? In front of my breakfast soup?” Tubbo questioned, motioning his hands into his cereal. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy laughs a short laugh, then stops to say, “Tubbo, d-don’t call cereal like that again, <em> please. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The brunette looks at Tommy with a sort of mischief in his eyes, smiling. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy was about to retort against that look, but was soon interrupted by the pinkette.</p><p> </p><p>“Aight, so, I know that the both of you have never touched a weapon before, but you look pretty thin and light, so that’d make it easy for you to run.” Techno announces as he shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>The two Tributes nod slowly, already knowing of this fact.</p><p> </p><p>“Despite that, because of how weak you both look, Careers are most likely to hunt you down and kill you so,” Techno stops to point the spoon into the two boys to tell them how important what piece of information he’d say next, and his eyes were pointed with determination.</p><p> </p><p>“What you do is get a little weapon, like a knife or, heck even an <em> awl </em> is enough. What I’m trying to say is get a weapon that you can carry while you run, even if it isn’t that fatal. With both of your body structures, you need somethin’ that’s lighter rather than something more powerful, got it?” </p><p> </p><p>The Tributes nod again, the information being given into them stuck into their minds. </p><p> </p><p>“But mate, that’s our strategy all the time.” Philza joins the conversation. ”And it isn’t very successful, to be honest.” he laughs a sad chuckle, thinking about how many Tributes have died by their strategy. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, our Tributes aren’t very burly and strong, Phil.” Techno states.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, <em> excuse you, </em> Techno, I have to tell you that I’m a very <em> big </em>man.” Tommy retaliates. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah <em>sureee</em>, Tommy.” Techno drawls.  </p><p> </p><p>Before Tommy could answer back, Phil steps in. “Let’s try to teach them sword fighting or axe fighting at least. Maybe teach them how to properly use a crossbow?”</p><p> </p><p>“Remember the last time that we taught Tributes with that physique." Techno points to the two teenagers’ arms with disapproval. “It didn’t go very well, Phil, it really didn’t.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, when we were Tributes, we took the offensive right?” Phil says slowly, trying not to bring any trauma up to Techno. </p><p> </p><p>“...Yeah we did.”</p><p> </p><p>“And we’re the few people who survived from the Hunger Games in District 7. So, if they took the same position as us, they might have a higher chance of surviving.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, Phil, you have to understand that they’re not like us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then we <em> train </em> them, Tech. Train them harder than before. I’ve had <em> enough </em> sending children off to their deaths instead of actually giving them actual advice to survive.” Phil says with a brand new fire in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The pinkette looks at the winged man, silent and wordless, as he thinks.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll train harder than the others, alright? You’ll have extra hours to train while the other Tributes are sleeping. Me and Phil will train you ourselves.” Techno resolves as he stands up, opting to go back to his room. “If you can’t keep up, <em> you will die. </em> Alright?”</p><p> </p><p>As Techno leaves the dining room, Phil whoops as Tommy and Tubbo exchange confused glances. </p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo,” Phil says, victory and relief in his tone. “You tell Wilbur’s story yourselves, aight? You and Tommy are going to survive this Hunger Games. <em> We promise you that. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>He hugs them, warm and comfortable, and the two teens felt like they were about to cry.</p><p> </p><p>They finally have warm and real hope.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the way the atmosphere changed from techno playing as manberg's puppet to breakfast soup is just how bipolar my writing style is.<br/>this is a hunger games au and theres hardly any hunger games-like things happening im so mad at myself. but i swear theres going to be actual content-<br/>anyways, please give me kudos to coax my tiny ego thanmk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since there were no training rooms in the train, Phil made do with verbal teaching while the teenagers would watch his Hunger Games performance, the blonde himself giving tips and analysis on each move he and other contestants made.  </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, so, this one move by Mason is something you don’t want to do.” the blonde says as he points into a brunette male, running away from Hunger Games Phil.</p><p> </p><p>Mason, as Phil said, was running away from the blonde while holding an axe too big for his size. It was noticeably heavy, making Mason become slower than before.</p><p> </p><p>As Phil glides fast with his makeshift wings, the brunette is then killed out of his misery, making the teenagers flinch at the scream made by Mason. </p><p> </p><p>Phil seems to have closed his eyes on that part, already memorizing that moment from his time in the Hunger Games.</p><p> </p><p>“S-so, ugh, <em> fuck. </em>” Phil attempts to talk, but the trauma that the scream brought still lingers within him.</p><p> </p><p>“Phil, maybe we can talk about appearances and personas before the whole fightin’ thing? Sponsors were a big help to both of our performances in the Games.” Techno says, unusually soft and gentle. </p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah, maybe you’re right, Techno. Maybe you’re right.” Phil agrees and stands up to get a glass of water. </p><p> </p><p>Techno watches the winged man in soft concern but the look is quickly replaced with a sharp one as he looks back at the two boys in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, the duality of a man. Am I right, Tubbo?” Tommy whispers to Tubbo, which Tubbo replied with “Upvote.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, personas is somethin' that’s really important to Tributes. Phil’s persona is a gentle and kind soul, whereas mine is overconfident and cocky. Although havin' a consistent persona is nice, people also like a sort of unpredictability in your actions and responses.” Techno points out as Tommy and Tubbo listen attentively. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, I feel like Tommy would be a good annoyin' kid or somethin’. Then Tubbo could be like an innocent kid with a sprinkle of chaos in him.” </p><p> </p><p>“What gave you this idea, big man? Are you trying to imply that I’m annoying?” Tommy speaks up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Techno replies a little too fastly. “Now, back to what I was saying.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy makes a shocked expression that looks so weird that it’s comical. Techno takes note of how the teenager has the knack of making these exaggerated expressions. </p><p> </p><p>“If I talk about bees, would that make me seem more innocent like?” Tubbo asks.</p><p> </p><p>“What does bees have to do with anythin’, Tubbo?” Techno asks, confusion in his words.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, I just really like bees.” Tubbo says as he shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>“...I guess talking about bees would make you more ‘cute’. Try it out and we’ll see their reactions.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo claps his hands excitedly, already acting like the persona he was assigned into.</p><p> </p><p>Techno had made up his mind for each of their personas when he did some ‘investigative journalism’ on them and figured out a persona that they’d be most comfortable acting. </p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” Phil exclaims and the three snap their heads to him. “We’re here.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo and Tommy look out the windows, and their jaws couldn’t stop but drop. </p><p> </p><p>The Capitol was a collection of dazzling buildings, bright prisms of white with dazzling lights. The sun rays hit the building just right, making it look like a pure white mirror painted with grand schemes of colors. Pure and clean rivers and healthy and grown trees were planted, making it look like some oasis in a sandy desert. </p><p> </p><p>And the people.</p><p> </p><p>The people came screaming, their avant garde outfits bizarre and strange to the simple outfits the two have grown accustomed to. </p><p> </p><p>They open their windows, and the greetings they heard were blasting upon their ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo! Tubbo! Tubbo!” </p><p> </p><p>“Hey Tommy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Clingy Duo my beloved!”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo and Tommy sheepishly waved their hands, but remembered they had to make a statement, so they quickly changed into wide smiles and large wave movements. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey Phil,” Tubbo says while his mouth is still in a smile. “What’s Clingy Duo?”</p><p> </p><p>Phil sighs behind him. “It’s what the Capitol dubbed you as when they found out Tommy volunteered for you. They said he was ‘clingy’ and that it was ‘cute’.” he says with designated finger quotes. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy felt bile rising up his throat. <em> Did people really think that my desperation to save my friend in the Hunger Games is clingy? That’s kind of fucked up. </em></p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s smile also lessened when he heard that, anger boiling within his guts. </p><p> </p><p>People in the Capitol really treated the lives of <em> real </em>children as a game. </p><p> </p><p>The moment they left the train, they were greeted with a nice looking woman, her fashion significantly simpler than the ones they’ve just seen.</p><p> </p><p>She wore a flowy and cottony pure white dress, accented with light baby blue hues. Her ice blonde hair was braided nicely into a braid low bun, a golden leaf headpiece holding it together. She had dark blue eyes, kind and soft, surrounded with strong black eyeliner. Her light peach lips are curled into a gentle smile. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be Tommy and Tubbo.” She says, her voice sounding so pleasant. “Wilbur told me a lot about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Niki, we’ll leave them to you. Me and Techno are going to chat with a few fans.” Phil says.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, good luck, Phil.”</p><p> </p><p>Phil tips his green and white bucket hat to the ice blonde, leaving with Techno to join the hordes of fans. The pinkette seems fazed already. </p><p> </p><p>“How many people has the man talked about us?” Tommy starts, confused on how overly charismatic the late brunette was. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he talked a lot about you. Most of the people he’s talked with at least know who you both are.” The girl murmured. “I’m Nihachu by the way, but you can just call me Niki.”</p><p> </p><p>She reaches her soft hands into the children, which they accepted, shaking them. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, Minx will be the one to clean you up.” she points into a purple haired girl, her fashion evidently harsher and darker than Niki’s. “I already have your outfits ready for you, but it’s going to be a surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>Niki leads them to Minx, but they can’t help but be intimidated. The black artificial horns coming out the purple tufts of hair made her look like a demon. She wore a lilac fitting dress with black leather strapped around it. Her dark black heels were tall and looked like it could stab anyone to death. </p><p> </p><p>“C’mere you fockin’ gremlins.” Minx barks out to the two boys. They couldn’t help but follow her wordlessly, Tommy becoming silent for the first time. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Bacon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Green teletubby.”</p><p> </p><p>The two rivals stand maliciously in front of the camera, facing each other with practiced fake annoyance. Manberg opted them to be rivals, since the both of them were perceived as the best players in Hunger Games history. </p><p> </p><p>“This might be the Hunger Games that I’ll win.” Dream says, confidence oozing even when he has that silly smiley face porcelain mask on.  </p><p> </p><p>“You wish. You still homeless or-” Techno asks, the long running joke about to roll out of his tongue but Dream unfortunately interrupted him, already knowing what he’d say. </p><p> </p><p>“I HAVE A HOUSE!” Dream screams. “What is wrong with you Techno?! I-I have a house, alright? I have a house.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cardboard doesn’t count, Smiles.”</p><p> </p><p>“G-God, what’s wrong with you? I have a house alright? It’s one of the biggest houses in Manberg and it has all these cool redstone mechanics that your little pig brain can’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just said that pigs were my favorite animal one time, and then you make that your trademark for me. Wow, you really are a comedic genius.” Techno drawls, a true smug grin on his face. Times fake arguing with Dream was one of the few things he enjoyed doing in front of the camera.</p><p> </p><p>But it was always better to talk with him privately, since he’s also a pretty chill dude when he isn’t screaming his ass off.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh you little-” Dream snarls, readying his fists. <em> Oh, he wants it to end already.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The camera then leaves them, as whenever the two would show a sign of physical hostility is when they’re done playing along, which the cameraperson respects. </p><p> </p><p>“Techno.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dream.”</p><p> </p><p>“So how’re you?” Dream nudges his shoulder on Techno’s playfully, as they walk around the backstage.</p><p> </p><p>“Eh.”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Eh’? Seriously? You talk blander than George, and that’s an extreme feat to do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you really comparing me to your British colorblind boyfriend?”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t think the great blood god was a DreamNotFound shipper.” Dream wheezes out his signature kettle wheeze.</p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I would never. Even if you consented to all that <em>stuff,</em>” Techno makes weird hand motions. “Shippin’ real life friends is <em>pretty</em> <em>cringe.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Each to their own, I guess. But me and George are really comfortable with it so it's alright. It’s just our personas anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.” </p><p> </p><p>“...Hey Techno.” Dream’s voice has become unusually softer now, making Techno turn around to look at him with concern.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“You remember the first time we met? When I told you how much you inspired me?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I did. The legendary Dream was bein’ a fanboy to me, that’s a large boost to my ego.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah well, I experienced a similar experience.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t seem very happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m not. It was a little boy, about nine or something. He told me that he wanted to be like me. And get this, he was all skin and bones, wearing a ragged shirt way too big for him. He was in District 12, so of course he’d be like that. But...” Dream removes his smiley mask, revealing emerald eyes shining with tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you feel like that with me too, Techno? This feeling of guilt when an innocent child wants to experience the same pain you felt when you were sure they’d die? The feeling of guilt of leading someone up to their painful death with baseless hope and admiration? I-If so,” he looks to Techno’s crimson orbs. <em> “How were you able to survive it all? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>A pang comes into Techno’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>He could remember that very moment with Dream, a boy from District 12, large emerald eyes shining with admiration. He was there in District 12 to comply with his everlasting promise to give out his yearly donations to the poorer Districts. The boy’s wild blonde hair was even wilder than before, looking like some dried bush. He wore a dark green shirt, the shirt so big it came to his ankles, and his limbs were so thin that Techno thought he would break the moment he touched him.</p><p> </p><p>He was surprised when the blonde said that he was the same age as him, 15 that time. </p><p> </p><p>And the poor boy told him that he wanted to <em> be </em> like him. To <em> be </em>as strong. To be even stronger if he could. </p><p> </p><p>The pinkette smiled at him, a smile that radiated soft kindness, and patted his head, feeding him his rations that the blonde was too weak to eat. He silently cried that night on the train back to his house, guilt swelling up his heart to give false hope to a boy like that.</p><p> </p><p>The boy came back, now on the television, muscled up and healthy. His face was covered with the porcelain mask, the emerald eyes hidden from the public. He volunteered for a random person, and he was 17 that time for the 38th Hunger Games.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t help but cheer a bit for Dream, even when he had Tributes of his own. </p><p> </p><p>It was the best he could give back for someone he gave false hope to.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing the blonde break into tears made his guilt devour his whole heart.</p><p> </p><p>This was his doing.</p><p> </p><p>This was what his false hope could do to someone so innocent, so naive on what’s to come.</p><p> </p><p>He pulls Dream into a hug, attempting to do what Phil once did to him.</p><p> </p><p>To comfort.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im beginning to think that im making techno the main character again. my techno kinnie is kicking in, forgive me about that. im not sure if my characterization for niki and minx was right, since i dont watch them that often, so i watched a few clips to research on what kind of speech they use or the basic structure of their personalities, so im sorry if i dont get it that right. yes, im aware that im overthinking for a fanfic</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Playing Hero and Mockery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Minx was surprisingly gentle on the cleaning of the two boys.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands were professionally gentle and precise, carrying the experience of her many years as a beautologist.</p><p> </p><p>But unfortunately, her mouth wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t move that much, <em> you shit ass cunt! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“It hurts like a bitch alright!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well suck it up like my fat ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’M A <em> MINOR </em> <em>!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut the fock up before I put this waxing tape in your mouth!”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy was unfortunately pain intolerant, so each time Minx would clean him up, he’d end up squirming, much to Minx’s annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo silently cried on his cleaning, making Tommy lash out to Minx earlier.</p><p> </p><p>After that, it was now a cursing competition between the two, them getting more creative the longer it goes. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s done now, you fockin’ pussy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a pussy, mind you, I’m a big man!”’</p><p> </p><p>There’s a gentle knock on the pristine white door of the room, the sound stopping the argument between the two.</p><p> </p><p>“Niki is coming, shut that fockin’ mouth of yours. And pretend to be grateful to me,” Minx seethes, showing her high heels glinting maliciously, looking like knives. “Or else you won’t even <em> survive </em> until you go into the arena.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy gulps in the insults he was about to say.</p><p> </p><p>As Minx is about to open the door, she shoots a threatening glare to Tommy and quickly switches up to a pure and uncharacteristic smile to the person in the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Niki! They’re both done, so you can do whatever you want with them now.” Tommy visibly cringes in how sweet the tone Minx used, her thankfully not noticing as she was busy shooting heart eyes to Niki.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Minx. I hope that they were good to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, they were <em> so </em>good to me. Tommy here squirmed a bit, but it's fine.” Minx says in gritted teeth. “Tubbo was calmer, he cried a bit though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no. Is he ok?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok, Niki, I’m fine.” Tubbo chirps. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s good." She sighs in relief. "How about you, Tommy?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine. I took it like the big man I was." Tommy replies, faking confidence.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah right." Minx taunts.</p><p> </p><p>"Shut the fuck up Minx."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you little gremli-"</p><p> </p><p>"Anyways" Niki interrupts. "I already have your outfits ready for you and I’m really excited about what you guys would think.” </p><p> </p><p>Niki looked really excited for the outfits, looking genuinely passionate on her work.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure that whatever you prepared will be wonderful.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, thank you Minx! I’ll need you to go out though, so excuse me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sureeee.” the purplette slowly retreats out of the room, her gaze still on Niki.</p><p> </p><p>The second Minx left the room, Tubbo spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you two dating?”</p><p> </p><p>Niki laughs, a symphony of angelic and light giggles, while Tommy laughs the same laugh, boisterous and loud as always. </p><p> </p><p>“N-No, <em> psh </em>, we’re, we-re not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. But that was deffo flirting though.” Tubbo says with an amused expression of his own.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right Tubbo! My man!” Tommy exclaims between laughs. </p><p> </p><p>“Minx is just like that. Don’t think much about it.” Niki waves her hand dismissively, still laughing. “Anyways, about your costumes, I decided to make it just like the last one.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo and Tommy exchange confused glances, “Last one?” they ask at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, on the 41th Hunger Games, I was also the designer of Wilbur’s costume.” she explains. “Wilbur himself gave me a letter while he was on the train to show what kind of costume he wanted. I, of course, made it look better than his original sketch, but Wilbur still made the base of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo could remember his costume like yesterday. It looked just like what they drew themselves in as little children, taking inspiration from soldiers in their childhood stories. </p><p> </p><p>The navy blue military jacket, a red sash tied into the waist, a small black cocked hat, brown platform knee high shoes with white pants and matching shirt with golden buttons. And what followed his coach was the flag that eleven year old Wilbur drew, the flag of L’Manberg, the fictional nation he made. </p><p> </p><p>They could remember the distant days of them dwelling in their ephemeral fantasy to escape from the tortuous hands of reality. A nation where there was no Hunger Games. A nation where they could have a proper meal on their table. A nation where everyone was free. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey Tommy,” He could remember the gentle voice of Wilbur. “We’ll make L’Manberg a real thing soon enough. We’ll finally be free. <em> Just wait. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>And wait Tommy did. And all he got was pieces of a delusional man playing as a mighty hero. </p><p> </p><p>He snaps out of his thoughts, Tubbo squeezing his hand gently. </p><p> </p><p>He looks at Tubbo’s shocked expression, following his friend’s widened eyes. </p><p> </p><p>And he can’t help but gape as well.</p><p> </p><p>The costume that Wilbur once wore was now even more grandiose, the jewels dripping into the golden chains of the epaulettes. And the flag. The flag was sewn underneath the navy coat, like a not so hidden act of defiance against Manberg.</p><p> </p><p>“N-Niki, uh, is this, is this okay? I mean, Wilbur received some backlash when he wore this.” Tubbo asks nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no. They’d actually be touched! Wilbur told the public the real reason for his costume, and lots of people swooned on that. We can use his reputation to boost yours, since he gained lots of fans. If you wear the same outfit, people would see it as you following his legacy.” Niki explains.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy reaches to touch the coat, looking at Niki for approval. She nods excitedly, urging him to do so. As he touches the inside of the coat, it feels sort of like a watery or flimsy fabric. He looks at the designer with confusion, which she immediately catches. </p><p> </p><p>“That material is called Brechung. It’s my own and it hasn’t been shown to the public yet. This’ll be someone’s first time wearing it to the public.” she explains exuberantly. “It shows a <em> little </em> surprise later.”</p><p> </p><p>They can’t help but be suspicious, but they feel like they’re in good hands, so they shake it off.</p><p> </p><p>The two finally put on the clothes, looking at themselves in the mirror. </p><p> </p><p>And then Tommy finally understands why Wilbur wanted to play hero so much.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I am ready to fuck shit up.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Jeb?” Chocolate eyes look at him quizzically, before breaking into a fit of light laughter.</p><p> </p><p>“W-What are you laughing at?! Are you making fun of my condition?” ‘Jeb’ asks, his cheeks flushed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, God, no. I would <em> never </em> . It’s just, <em> well </em>, a name that I haven’t heard before.” The boy with chocolate eyes apologizes, calming himself from his laughter. “Sorry about that.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hello, then, Jeb.” The same boy greets him with a smile, his eyes charming and bright, holding out a hand out for ‘Jeb’ to shake.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes it, his own soft hand touching the calloused and rough one. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you drunk bastard, the Tributes are coming in five minutes.” A voice says, the water he splashed on the drunk man waking him up. “Fix yourself up, you’re a fucking mess.” </p><p> </p><p>“Got a lot of guts to splash water on me, Flatty Patty.”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> asshole </em>,” The shorter man seethes. “Stop calling me that! Besides, it’s your fault for drinking every time before an event.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’d do it again.” The wet man says between laughs. The shorter man huffs and then leaves the lavish back stage of the balcony, his walk brisk and annoyed. </p><p> </p><p>The moment he leaves, the man gets up his seat, taking the polished suit his vice president set for him. He fixes himself up, drying the wet mess on his face, and combs the tufts of hair between his ram horns. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Schlatt, get yourself together.” The man, Schlatt, tells himself as he looks at his reflection. “Fucking Quackity had to spill water on me, tch.”</p><p> </p><p>He tightens his apple red neck tie, flattens his white dress shirt and looks at himself in the mirror one more time.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, I am <em>so</em> <em>hot</em>.” Schlatt compliments himself in the empty room, readying that smug aura of his. No time looking like a massive mess in front of the public. He’s gotta make himself look like he’s in total control of the situation every time. </p><p> </p><p>Another pang comes in his head, the excessive drinking from earlier taking its toll. </p><p> </p><p>“S-Shit, <em> agh </em>, fu-fuck.” he says as he rubs his temples, easing the heavy pain. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks he’s ready to go, but a thought nags him that he’s missing something. </p><p> </p><p>Oh right.</p><p> </p><p>He attains the half full glass of whiskey, and the bottle along with it.</p><p> </p><p>“There, much better.”</p><p> </p><p>He leaves the room, the mahogany doors opened by his guards and he’s greeted with Quackity’s sour expression his own suit sleek with his light blue tie. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you seriously going to<em> drink </em>while welcoming the Tributes?”</p><p> </p><p>The horned man shrugs nonchalant, “A man has his needs.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t fucking believe you, Christ.” The beanie wearing man spits out, disgust evident in his tone. </p><p> </p><p>“Still wearing that dumb beanie? You’re more unbelievable, you look fucking stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Quackity looks somehow hurt, hiding it with a quick stoic expression. He shuts up, to Schlatt’s satisfaction. The guy’s been getting too confident, so it’s nice to see the shorter get quiet whenever he’d insult his physical appearance. A good breath of fresh air from the man’s usual quacking and nagging. </p><p> </p><p>He fully goes into the balcony now, triumphant in insulting his right hand man. He smiles greatly to the crowds of people, receiving loud cheers and expressions of joy. </p><p> </p><p>The carriages come into the scene, the Tributes’ flashy costumes glinting one by one. </p><p> </p><p>He hears the excited chatter of the two hosts, sharing their opinions on the fashion they see today. </p><p> </p><p>Schlatt doesn’t really mind, as he’s busy with his drink, sipping and pouring to no end.</p><p> </p><p>Carriages with colors from all the colors of the rainbow come in, painting the boring cobblestone road. It all comes into a haze, the alcohol giving its effect.</p><p> </p><p>But a particular reaction of the people made his consciousness kick in. The people began cheering louder now, amazed by whatever they’re seeing. </p><p> </p><p>“Nihachu? Miss Nihachu, please explain what you’ve done to the Clingy Duo. Everyone else needs an explanation!” The hosts ask, amusement and amazement in their voices. </p><p> </p><p>And the president sees it.</p><p> </p><p>The flag of the late Wilbur Soot, waving around mockingly behind the two boys navy blue coats. The outfit looked almost like his, but better and more awe-spiring, jewels of red, blue, yellow and white dripping on the simple colors of the fabric. The two boys wearing it waved to the crowd, excited and rowdy like children, not matching the elegance of what they wore. </p><p> </p><p>But, the closer the carriage went, the more that he saw it wasn’t a flag.</p><p> </p><p>The under of the coat being was hit by light, the image appearing on the outside of it. Like refraction. The image was being waved, the colors looking him down.</p><p> </p><p>Schlatt couldn’t help but grip his glass firmly, his eyes scurrying for the designer of such mocking outfits.</p><p> </p><p>And he sees her, his hazel eyes locking into dark blue ones. </p><p> </p><p>She smiled, a smile that was mocking and rebellious.</p><p> </p><p>“The audacity of that <em> bitch </em>.” Schlatt says underneath his breath, already shaking from anger. </p><p> </p><p>“Schlatt, there’s an audience.” Quackity reminds him, his tone almost like a warning. “Nihachu is also a <em> very </em> important figure. Her father is one of our most valued assets. <em> Don’t mess shit up. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>The horned man breathes in and out, downing the remaining liquid in his glass, the burning sensation calming him down. “I’m chill, I’m chill. I am <em> totally </em>chill.” </p><p> </p><p>He puts on a confident smile again, his speech ready made on his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>As the Tributes’ carriages finally come to a halt, them looking at Schlatt with a mixture of emotions, he could sense complete anger directed to him. He looks around and his eyes finally settle on Tommy, the boy’s glare on him sharp with anger. He brushes it off, focused on giving his speech and finally able to relax back in his presidential house.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome, beloved Tributes, to the 42nd Hunger Games!” The crowd cheers to join in to the welcome. He signals for them to quiet down, which they immediately comply to. “We salute you all for your courage and sacrifice and wish you a Happy Hunger Games.” He glances at Tommy shortly, the blonde looking red with anger. “And may the odds be <em> ever </em> in your favor.”</p><p> </p><p>The cheers are beyond deafening as the carriages go back, mostly shouting support for District 7.</p><p> </p><p>Before the carriages retreated into the darkness, Tommy turned around and shot a final glare at Schlatt, his friend beside him tugging his arm to look onward.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so if it seems like theres any romantic relationships here, theres not any, so sorry. i just dont know how to write minx and niki's friendship without it looking like dating. minx is literally platonically simping for niki so i put it into words idk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Freedom from this Hellhole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment the carriages came back, they were greeted with applause and praise by the people backstage.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo come down from their carriage, their mentors, fashion designer and an unknown man greeting them.</p><p> </p><p>“That was great!” Philza exclaims, his voice light with giggles. “Niki, how did you make such a good outfit in such a short time? Fuck, <em>man</em>, what did you do?”</p><p> </p><p>The designer laughs and responds, “Will gave me inspiration with his flag. It was like an epiphany for me and my work, so I was surprised when the two were the Tributes. It was like <em> fate. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>Her tone of voice was a little shaky, but they suspect it was all from the adrenaline that was caused by her work getting immense recognition. </p><p> </p><p>They feel an awkward pat in the back and a deep voice telling them which they immediately recognized as Techno’s, “You both did good.”</p><p> </p><p>The unknown man clears his throat to announce his presence. All eyes were on him, his fox ears protruding out of his orange hair, a black leather hat with gold chains planted on top of it. He wore a black jacket with gold epaulettes, colors of blue and orange on the middle of it, matching black pants with a large gold chain connecting the pants and a simple white shirt. There’s also an orange fluffy tail poking out of the back of his outfit, waving like a real fox tail.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were the same color as his hair, orange and sharp. He opens his mouth to speak, his canines shining brightly. “It’s nice to meet you two.” he reaches his hands to the two, which they hesitantly shook. </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, a jolt of electricity leads them to jump, the pain sourcing from the orange man’s palm.</p><p> </p><p>The man cackles, loud and full of mischief. “Y-You,<em> hah </em> , you, should’ve seen the look in your faces, <em> kek. </em>” He says between breaths.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy, red with embarrassment, counters. “You f-fucking furry!”</p><p> </p><p>The fox man immediately stops laughing, his fox ears perking up. He bundles up his hands, evidently annoyed by the words of the Tributes. <em> “I’m not a furry!” </em></p><p> </p><p>“You have a fox tail and ears, that’s kind of furry-like to me.” Tubbo muses, his tone dripping with mischief. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Ugh </em>, let’s just change the subject.” The man dismisses, and the two boys thankfully drop the matter, satisfied already with making the prankster this flustered. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Fundy, I’m the Head Gamemaker for this year’s Hunger Games.” he announces to them, formal and prim, contradicting his happy-go-lucky nature earlier.   </p><p> </p><p>“You know another five letter word that starts with F and ends with Y?” Tommy asks, amusement in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Oh God no- </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Furry. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Wilbur told me that in the start you’d be kind of annoying, God, <em> but this is way too much. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck? Even the <em> Gamemaker </em>knows who we are? Man, how much energy did Wilbur have?”</p><p> </p><p>Fundy laughs a short laugh, dripping with a soft sadness. “Believe me, the man has way too much social talent. It’s what made me do some of the crazy shit he asked me to pull.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’s kinda one of his strengths.” Techno mutters behind the two’s backs. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it really is. Wilbur’s very charismatic.” Niki affirms. “Fundy, can we have a quick chat?”</p><p> </p><p>“...” Fundy seems to hesitate. “Yeah, sure.”</p><p> </p><p>The two retreat, far away from the Tributes and their mentors.</p><p> </p><p>“Techno!” A voice calls out to the pinkette. The voice is revealed to be Dream, the porcelain mask still on his face, his lime green hoodie shining from the crowds of softer colors, and a tall and lanky boy beside his side. </p><p> </p><p>Despite his domineering clothing, his body language is awkward and docile.</p><p> </p><p>His costume was coal rubbed on half of his body, a show of what District he was from. He wore a black suit with a simple red tie, a green emerald fixed on it. His hair is half black and white, a crown also affixed on his head, looking oddly like Techno’s but with red and green jewels respectively. His eyes were red and green, most likely the inspiration of his outfit’s colors.</p><p> </p><p>“This is Ranboo.” Dream introduces him to the group.  </p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Ranboo waves awkwardly to the other Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you born before or after April 9, 2004?” Tommy immediately asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmm, before.” Ranboo replies.</p><p> </p><p>“...”</p><p> </p><p>“...”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re younger than me.” Tommy concludes, smug and confident.</p><p> </p><p>“N-No.” Ranboo replies, confused on how wrong the younger man was. “I’m older, cause I was born <em> before </em> so-”</p><p> </p><p>“HOW AM I STILL THE YOUNGEST WITH ALL THE PEOPLE I’VE MET?” Tommy screams in annoyance, much to his friends' amusement. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re just built different.” Ranboo adds, already comfortable with the new group.</p><p> </p><p>As the group gets along, they walk to their assigned rooms made for them until the big day.</p><p> </p><p>They walk through the pure white hallways, diamonds and prisms decorating them. The elevator to the rooms are made entirely of glass, looking clean and ethereal. They wave goodbye to Ranboo as they leave to their floor, their suite covering the whole floor.</p><p> </p><p>They enter the suite, looking like the main color of the Capitol, white and bright. The furniture were painted with different pops of color, bursting into the canvas of a suite. They see Niki there already, waiting for them with a smile on her lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” She asks, which the two boys nod, their mouths still gaping.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it does.” The two reply, the details of the room sinking into them.</p><p> </p><p>“You guys wanna rest? You’ve been at it for quite a while now. You'll have a busy day tomorrow. In the meantime, sleep, yeah?” Phil tells them, comforting and soft. </p><p> </p><p>The two nod, fatigue suddenly flooding them, their eyes drooping from tiredness. The fatherly man pats them supportively in the back, ushering them to their rooms.</p><p> </p><p>They go to their separate rooms, the comfy mattress, blanket and pillows rocking them to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’ve heard there was a special place,” the voice sings, dauntingly sweet and shaky. “Where men could go emancipate,” he trails along the intimidatingly tall trees, setting the explosives that will soon lead to his death. </p><p> </p><p>“The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers,” he continues, the anthem he once made for his beloved daydream, his eyes unhinged from the betrayal of one he trusted, only to be backstabbed so badly. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, this place is real, we needn’t fret,” His nails dug into the bark of the tree, frustration bubbling into his gut, thinking of Eret’s betrayal, making him lose his materials to survive.</p><p> </p><p>He’s fully given up now, on living, on L’Manberg, <em> everything </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo,” Sweet memories of his childhood with his friends, come flashing before him. And for once in a long time, happiness is stirred within his heart, him smiling to the sun thinking of those carefree days.</p><p> </p><p>The feeling is quickly stomped by an image of Eret, telling him a line that Wilbur will never forget as his associates steal his materials gotten from hard work. That smug smile as he burned down all of Wilbur’s dreams and hopes to continue on.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “It was never meant to be.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “Fuck Eret.” </em>he finally spits out, unspeakable anger and spite laced in his words. He laughs, unhinged and hopeless, his hand bleeding from how hard he gripped the tree bark. He grips his hair, still laughing, unaware of the tears spilling from those former chocolate eyes full of innocence and dreams, now replaced with bitter resentment and despair. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a very big and <em> not </em> blown up L’Manberg.” He sings, his tone faking steadiness, his charming smile ready made in the camera focused on his face. He chuckles, faint and low, for having to play along to the Capitol’s puppetry even to his own death. </p><p> </p><p>“My L’Manberg”</p><p> </p><p>He finally places the last explosive, his calloused and wounded hands fixing it on the ground below him. </p><p> </p><p>“My L’Manberg”</p><p> </p><p>He dances a little to his final death stop, swaying and laughing maniacally, dancing without fear with death itself.</p><p> </p><p>“My L’Manberg”</p><p> </p><p>He readies the flint and steel, giddy in the idea of finally being free in this god-forsaken hell.</p><p> </p><p>“My L’Manber-” He stops to his final lyric. He thinks vividly of those large smiles, full of purity and innocence on what this hellhole has to offer. He thinks of the screams and weeping of the two boys as he was unfortunately picked by Death to be his next victim, their eyes radiating hopelessness and desperation. </p><p> </p><p>Did he really want to do this? What will happen to those he will soon leave to suffer, as he basks in pure euphoria in the afterlife? If he can’t live for himself, can’t he just live for Tommy and Tubbo, protecting them from the evils of this world?</p><p> </p><p>But, his calculating and sensical nature has been dominated already by the insanity of being kicked down and put up again, only for the cycle to repeat, the high to escape chases him. </p><p> </p><p>He just wants to end this hellhole.</p><p> </p><p>This hellhole named the Hunger Games.</p><p> </p><p>He finally clashes the flint and steel, his laugh unbelieving of what his instincts had told him to do. His long lashes finally let out tears, him unsure of what emotion it was letting out. Was it happiness to be freed? Was it sadness to know what will happen to those he will leave behind? Regret for not doing much more with the bound short life he’d lead?</p><p> </p><p>He resolves with a final mock salute, his smile brave and wide, as if he just won a war as the soldier he loved to play as a child.</p><p> </p><p>“It was never meant to be.” </p><p> </p><p>And in one ginormous explosion, Wilbur Soot was no more. </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Tommy wakes up with a scream, cold sweat rolling down his skin.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes are shaky, looking for stability. </p><p> </p><p>Huge globs of tears are already forming into his azure eyes, sobs finally escaping his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>He breathes in and out, and concludes to go to his safe place, his anchor for stability.</p><p> </p><p>He opens the door, his movements already memorized as he’s already done this so many times.</p><p> </p><p>He climbs into the bed of the older boy, bundling the cloth of his back with his shaky hands, his head fixed on the back he plunged into. </p><p> </p><p>“...Another bad one?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stay as long as you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>A moment of silence comes into the two, comfortable and relaxing.</p><p> </p><p>“God, Tubbo, you’re so clingy.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo chuckles, “Yes I am, sorry about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“...You’re forgiven, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re still really clingy though. Like, wow man, you have some serious separation issues.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorryyyy.” Tubbo says, smiling with the younger’s usual antics whenever he’d have a nightmare, answering in a way that wouldn’t make Tommy more uncomfortable than he already is.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy then begins to start comfy small talk, which Tubbo would reply with ease on. The younger significantly lessens his speech, and soon enough his words are then resulted in small snores. </p><p> </p><p>They both sleep well tonight, comfort replacing the nightmares with each others’ presence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If this seems like shipping, NO IT'S NOT. I have resolved from the start of the book that all of the relationships here will be STRICTLY Platonic. can you tell that I rushed the first part of this chapter since I was way too excited to write insanebur's scene. also this chapter took way too long because hahah school. condolences to the comment that i info dumped on the past chapter, i was way too excited on that jsjsjsj. anyways, since ive fed the ao3 algorithm psh psh hits c'mere psh psh.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Coldness and Alliances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s in a room, empty and so<em> so</em> very cold. </p><p> </p><p>His body didn’t feel like it was his, his limbs unworking and uncooperative to his will to move.</p><p> </p><p>His fingertips were desolate, still with a hateful cold. </p><p> </p><p>He could hardly see anything, his senses dulled by the shadow of death. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you proud of me, Papa?” A voice questions in the numbing room. “Am I your little champion?”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t speak, his voice dead in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>“God, I need to stop this. I keep telling myself that, but... my obsession with you is keeping me from that.” The man chuckles, devoid of emotion and amusement. “<em>All this because you look just like him</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why can’t I just accept the fact that you’re never coming back? Why am I still torturing myself like this?” The man reflects, disbelieving in what his mania is causing him to do. “It’s all because you look like him. <em>Because of my obsession for a father figure.</em>” </p><p> </p><p>He leaves the room, the bitter resentment adding into the frigid cold. </p><p> </p><p>And he sits there still, confusion flooding within him before a syringe is placed again and the world turns into a blur before it turns to complete darkness.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Today was training for the two boys and they started earlier than the other Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>The only people besides them were the District 12 Tributes and mentors.</p><p> </p><p>The two were separated, Tommy with Techno and Tubbo with Phil.</p><p> </p><p>They both wore the simple black outfit for training, comfortable and easy to move in. Tommy sees their friend Ranboo, visibly struggling with his axe training with Dream. He was with another girl as well, looking better than Ranboo in training with knife combat and was with the other mentor, Sapnap. </p><p> </p><p>“Ranboo, your feet aren’t shoulder-width apart again.” Dream drawls, looking extremely bored. </p><p> </p><p>The black and white haired boy could only nod, taking the criticism from his mentor as well as he can. </p><p> </p><p>But Tommy only could see that brief scene before the wooden sword is once again being whizzed into his sight again. </p><p> </p><p>“Focus, Tommy.” The pinkette in front of him warns. He doesn’t even look remotely tired, his fancy outfit still in place even in training. Including the heavy crimson cape. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” He readies his sword again, taking the defensive. “Isn’t that cape of yours heavy while you’re fighting?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it is. That’s why I wear it. You wouldn’t even last if I removed my cape and accidentally used like, five percent of my power.” Techno brags, confident and cocky.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy scoffs, although he fully knew he wouldn’t even last a second in a real fight with Techno. He ‘accidentally’ insulted Techno a few minutes earlier and he got his ass whooped in a five second defeat. </p><p> </p><p>He could still feel the spit from being slammed on the floor harshly in his throat. His back still hurts and his ego has never been so hurt like this before. </p><p> </p><p>He looks to the side, Phil was teaching Tubbo to use a trident in combat. He can’t help but be jealous in the smiles the two gave each other, reassuring pats in the back when he made a mistake and advice being given to him gently. </p><p> </p><p>“Tommy,” Techno seems to have noticed the pure envy in the boy’s eyes burning through the duo’s heads. The blonde immediately snaps his head to Techno. </p><p> </p><p>“Can, uh, you please put your legs like this?” The pinkette is trying to take a gentler teaching style, Tommy can tell and he can’t help but laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“W-Why are you laughin’?” Techno questions, a laugh of confusion seeping out of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“Are ya trying to be softer, Blade?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s the only thing keepin' you focused on me,” Techno shrugs. “So, might as well. Wouldn’t want to see you dyin' in the Games. That’d <em>suck.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy gulps. Why is he so focused on the teaching style of his mentor, when what he was training for decides if he will live or not? He curses himself on how stupid he was being. He looks at Tubbo again, and he focuses on the older’s eyes scorching with motivation instead of his big happy-go-lucky smile.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at Techno, a look that said he would take this seriously now. He nods as he does so, a newfound determination in his soul, sparking and dancing like fire.</p><p> </p><p>The older grins, his posture as perfect as always. He holds his wooden sword, Tommy mimicking his hold and posture. By the look in Techno’s face, he’s doing quite well.</p><p> </p><p>“Your grip on the handle is too hard.” Techno informs. “You might die of splinters rather than whatever duel you’ll go through.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s hand goes slack, but not too much and he receives silent approval from his mentor. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, follow the movements I’m goin' to do. Keep your eyes on me, aight?” Techno instructs.</p><p> </p><p>The training goes on with Techno making moves and Tommy mimicking them. Tommy sneaks a few glances to Tubbo, each glimpse giving him more and more motivation.</p><p> </p><p>As they finish practicing the beginner techniques, Techno concludes on a break. As they rest, Phil and Tubbo are still practicing with the trident. </p><p> </p><p>“After this, me and Phil resolved for the two of you to have other skills to train.” Techno announces as Tommy is taking a breather. “Phil’s mom was a weaver and she taught him how to weave leaves and he trained it even more for the Hunger Games. Because of that, he was able to make somethin’ to help him survive, his famous Elytra.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy is amazed. Such a small skill was able to help him survive the Hunger Games against twenty-four people? His respect for Philza Minecraft grows and grows each minute. </p><p> </p><p>“So, we want you to train on the small skills, the skills that are unlikely to help you on the Games. They might help you survive for all you know.” He drawls, hoping for it to be slow enough for Tommy to understand.</p><p> </p><p>“I got it, I got it, big man.” Tommy says reassuringly, and he surprisingly does. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo and Phil are completely finished now, the two sweating profusely. The brunette greets Tommy with a smile, big and wide. The younger’s heart swells on how emotionally strong his friend is. </p><p> </p><p>The two sit down with a sigh, clearly exhausted as well. Phil explains to them what's going next to their schedule and all they could do was nod.</p><p> </p><p>So, there they were learning on the different ways on how to tie knots as more and more Tributes from other Districts came in. </p><p> </p><p>It was the first time that they've seen them individually. Each one of them had a different body type, from large to petite and from muscled to scrawny.</p><p> </p><p>They start training now, most of the people with larger bodies gather around the heavier weapons side and the scrawnier take on the lightweight or no weapons at all section.</p><p> </p><p>The two can't help but be intimidated by the swarms of Tributes, flexing their immense skill in spilling blood, eventually finding them being the dummies that were being absolutely chewed on by these monsters. </p><p> </p><p>The heavy bloodlust and desire for survival was basically suffocating them, the atmosphere thick with it. </p><p> </p><p>As they follow the instructions of their instructor, a lovely old lady, a girl sits with them.</p><p> </p><p>They identify her as the same girl with Ranboo, and she had the same smiley face mask as Dream’s to hide her face. Speaking of similarities with Dream, her mid length hair looked like the same color of blonde and was unrestrained and straight. She was medium sized and thin, looking like she was about fourteen or fifteen. </p><p> </p><p>She seems to have noticed the stares being given to her, so she sighs and opens her mouth, the two hoping for her to answer their unsaid questions. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m a minor you know, you shouldn’t look at me like that.” </p><p> </p><p>She sadly doesn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Tommy asks unbelievably, his ears red in what she just hinted. </p><p> </p><p>She shrugs, an action that meant “I said what I said.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo, on the other hand, laughs nervously in the presence of the significantly younger girl and embarrassed by what she just said.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m literally a minor too! And so is Tubbo, mah frienddd. We aren’t creeps, y’know, like <em>men</em>.” Tommy exclaims to her, Tubbo vigorously nodding until the “We aren’t creeps” part. </p><p> </p><p>“That makes sense, since you’re such a <em> child.” </em> The girl retorts, not even having to see her face to feel her smugness with that remark.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo fully laughs now, since he’s aware of how Tommy would be so childish sometimes, even though he quite is himself as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo!” The younger shouts, disbelief on his friend laughing at him. “Aren’t you by my side?” </p><p> </p><p>“S-Sorry big man.” He replies between laughter. “I-It’s just-” he stops talking, giggles overtaking his speech.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy visibly pouts, but ends up sighing in what he’s gotten himself into.</p><p> </p><p>A little girl full of sass and his best friend laughing at the remarks against him by said girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Who even are you?” Tommy asks pointedly, hoping to at least some good thing out of this conversation. “Did you just come up here and figure out you’re going to insult us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not my fault that you were staring at me. I was just minding my business before you looked at me like some stalker. Pretty weirdchamp.” She mumbles, but ends up answering anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Drista, Dream’s sister.” </p><p> </p><p>The two immediately shoot up from their seats, their mouths gaping. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU?! The sister of the big man himself? Big D? Are you sure? Did you hit your head or something?” Tommy asks, drowning her with sensical and nonsensical questions. </p><p> </p><p>“What is it like to have Dream as your brother?” Tubbo asks excitedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Eh, he’s kind of self-centered, since he’s a big Leo.” She answers boredly. “A bit overprotective. He taught me how to fight, and he inspired me to volunteer myself for a weak person, so I guess that’s kind of a plus.” She shrugs, as if she didn’t just put herself in this hellhole.</p><p> </p><p>“HUH? You volunteered for someone? <em> You? </em>!” They question, surprised by how selfless she was. </p><p> </p><p>“Well yeah. That’s what the strong is supposed to do. To protect the weak.” She says matter-in-factly. “But apparently there’s an age restriction.” </p><p> </p><p>The two look at her with puppy eyes, urging her to go on. </p><p> </p><p>“He wasn’t very happy that I volunteered myself at the age of fourteen. To a total stranger, nonetheless. He told me that I should’ve waited when I was like sixteen or something. Told me I wasn’t strong enough for the Games.” She grips her hands tightly, evidently mad. “Which is <em>complete</em> crap since I’m strong enough for it. Strong enough to be like him. To bravely replace the person who has no chance to win.”</p><p> </p><p>She stands up, stretching her limbs. </p><p> </p><p>“I have every motive to win this Games. <em>I am not going to die as some sheep for sacrifice.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The two boys gulp, forgetting that this girl was a threat to them as well in the battlefield.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why I want to team up with you.” She concludes, offering up her palm to them. “I mean, you’re creeps, but you have <em> the </em> Technoblade and Philza training you, so <em> I guess </em> you’d be pretty talented creeps. And you aren’t as snobbish and narcissistic as the other Tributes, so we’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“...”</p><p> </p><p>“...”</p><p> </p><p>“...”</p><p> </p><p>“W-Why are you just standing there? Say something.” She begins attacking the two with her fists, punching them up and down lightly. </p><p> </p><p>“Never took you as the desperate type, Drista.” Tubbo jokes, immediately halting her actions and slouching in defeat. Tommy laughs loudly in return, smacking Tubbo’s hand in a high five. </p><p> </p><p>“We’ll think about it first. For now, move away from us please.” Tubbo notifies, leading her to drift away from them, still slouching. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Before you agree, which you will,” she follows up, the sentence oddly sounding like a threat. “Just remember that I admire you a whole lot and that it’d be an honor to be your teammate. Okay, bye.” She says hurriedly and leaves them to think of what choice they should make.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s so bipolar, Tubbo!” Tommy says as the girl isn’t in hearing distance anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“She really is.” He affirms.</p><p> </p><p>“Should we even let someone that unstable to be in our team? What if she ends up killing us just because we breathed in the same direction as her?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’ve actually been thinking of adding her in the team.”</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT? Tubbo, <em>are you out of your mind?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“As you said, she can kill anyone. If we rejected her, chances are, she’s going to kill us because of her embarrassment, don’t you think?”</p><p> </p><p><em> “But she wouldn’t be breathing into our neck, Tubbo. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s strong, Tommy. Did you see her knife skills earlier? She’s pretty pog.” Tubbo explains.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy groans and puts his hands on his face, unbelieving of what his best friend is proposing.</p><p> </p><p>He feels a gentle pat in the back. “<em> We can survive if we have her, Tommy. </em> Let’s be honest, this is our first time touching a weapon, so we’re pretty much clueless. I’m the son of a washing lady and you’re the son of a housewife and a lumberer, while Drista’s the sister of an actual fighter. She’s received training and experience, Tommy, something we don’t have. We need her. <em> We need her </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>The younger takes a moment to think, the points that Tubbo made sinking into his working and thinking mind. He takes a deep breath and finally answers.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. But if we die from her, I’m going to blame it on you in the afterlife.”</p><p> </p><p>He whoops and pulls Tommy into a hug, the blonde surprised at first but slowly sinking into his friend’s warm body heat.</p><p> </p><p>Drista goes nearer to them, slow and hesitant. The two boys gave a thumbs up to the girl and they could already feel the smirk that’s hidden by the porcelain mask.</p><p> </p><p>“Ranboo is also joining if you don’t mind.” She says nonchalantly, as if she didn’t just add more weight to the two teens’ shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah whatever. He’s pretty pogchamp, if I say so myself. Good lad he is.” Tommy surprisingly agrees to it.</p><p> </p><p>Must’ve liked the guy already.</p><p> </p><p>And so, their team was finalized, consisting with all the District 7 and the District 12 Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>What could possibly go wrong?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*pops out of my grave* wow *brushes the dirt away from my body* its been a long time since ive uploaded. mainly because of school so sorry about that. i just really want the dsmp teens content (sorry purpled), so this is basically me writing for myself wnvjnr. writing while listening to miy_yuu and doctrine doctrine really transports you to a whole different level of writing. also this fic popped off, like wow so many hits, kudoses and comments. the writer is very pleased with all this clout. anyways i will be back soon again,,, i think</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Naivete</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Faster, Tommy</em>.” Techno warns as the wooden swords clash loudly. Tommy nods into the advice and quickly changes the pace of his movements faster. </p><p> </p><p>The boy is sweating profusely, but his stamina and endurance have grown into the course of these five training days. His duel with his mentor has taken him about four hours already, and his body hasn’t dropped on the first hour like his first time. </p><p> </p><p>He’s been practicing sword fighting the most lately, while Tubbo took on the trident as a melee weapon. They’ve also practiced long ranged weapons such as bows and crossbows. They’ve taken many training courses that focused on the smaller skills like ropes, shelter making, camouflage and identifying what plants and animals are edible in the arena.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Tubbo, he’s been taking crossbow training pretty well today. The boy was able to hit the bullseye three times in a row already, which is impressive since he would usually did only two. Tommy also noticed that the both of them were building muscle from the vigorous training everyday, only taking a one hour break to eat and rest during training. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve taken tabs on everyone in the forged alliance’s performance, Drista still the most superior out of all of them with her knife and axe fighting, while Ranboo and Tommy tied in the bottom of the list. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t mind much, since Tubbo was definitely an opponent hard to beat, his determination stronger than Tommy’s. Sometimes, he’d feel guilty to even be with Tubbo, the boy doing so much more than he is right now.</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo, on the other hand, was ever so awkward when it came to fighting. Dream gave up teaching him how to fight with an axe, and instead taught him how to fight with a pickaxe. It wasn’t his best expertise in teaching, but Ranboo did better now compared to his axe training. He suspects because the pickaxe was lighter to hold than the axe, and Ranboo had naturally light long limbs.</p><p> </p><p>Drista, on the other hand, was an absolute <em> god. </em></p><p> </p><p>The girl was able to fight with knives and was able to use them in close combat and long ranged combat as well, throwing them with absolute accuracy. Her axe fighting skills were something not to ignore as well. She seems to have taken Dream’s skill in it, experience sharpening it even more. </p><p> </p><p>Despite her very, well, <em> unique </em> personality, there’s no denying that she’s a valuable asset.</p><p> </p><p>It seems that other Tributes have seen that as well, as they’ve reached out to her as well with alliances of their own, which she quickly shut down. </p><p> </p><p>Before he sees it, another pang is on his cheek, the wood hitting it harshly. </p><p> </p><p>“Tommy.” The deep voice says calmly. “I was sure that your instincts have sharpened already. That hit was slower than my usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, nice flex, big man.” Tommy says as he rubs his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it because you’re gettin’ tired?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm… probably.”</p><p> </p><p>“Heh? Why didn’t you tell me?” The pinkette questions and then throws a towel to the teen. “Rest for a while.” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy lazily nods and plops himself headfirst into the bench, fatigue taking over him. Techno sits on the very end of the bench and wipes his sweating body with the towel. Seeing it gives Tommy a sense of pride. He was finally able to make the <em>Technoblade</em> sweat this much, something that he didn’t even imagine on his first training session.</p><p> </p><p>“You have your private trainin’ session tomorrow.” Techno reminds him quietly. Tommy could only grumble as a response, him being nervous for it too.</p><p> </p><p>“...You can get through it, I’m sure you can.” His mentor surprisingly reassures him, the boy looking at him with confused eyes. Techno could sense the confusion so he quickly covers it up with a nervous egoistic remark. “Uh, cause, like, Technoblade <em> himself </em>taught you, so, uhm, you’re most definitely able to pass, hahah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, right.” Tommy relaxes. “<em>Of course</em> you’d say that.” He smiles looking at the roof of the training center.</p><p> </p><p>He could sense his mentor shuffling uncomfortably before leaving awkwardly with a long “Byeee”, leaving him to rest and plan on what he was going to do next.</p><p> </p><p>As he closes his eyes, he could feel the eyes of someone looking straight at him.</p><p> </p><p>He instinctively sits upright, scanning his surroundings to find the gaze of someone he didn't know.</p><p> </p><p>Fortunately, it wasn't a long hunt, as he sees large sky blue eyes staring right at him, wide with surprise.</p><p> </p><p>"S-Shit!" Tommy curses out in surprise, flinching as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>He takes a minute to compose himself, and then takes a close look at the person in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>The person in front of him was actually a little boy of short and quite chubby stature, looking like he was twelve years old. He had a dark birthmark imprinted into the area around his left sky blue eye and had light tan skin. His fluffy hair was chestnut brown, wild and all over the place. </p><p> </p><p>"W-Who the, the fuck are you?" Tommy asks, still a bit shaken up by the boy's sudden appearance. He thankfully receives a response from the still wide eyed child,</p><p> </p><p>"My name's Michael. I, uh, I just thought that you weren't f-feeling so well, so I checked on you." He says, ever so timid. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy sighs at the young boy's innocent and naive actions, evident that he isn't very aware yet of his situation. He decides to help the little guy at least have some idea on what kindness can lead you to an already cruel world.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, but, uh, not really." He says bluntly. "We're enemies, you know that right?" Michael visibly stiffens and Tommy takes note of it. He continues. "If you did that to anybody again, you're fucked, hear me, <em>fucked</em>."</p><p> </p><p>The boy nods slowly, and soon leaves him into his own business wordlessly.</p><p> </p><p>As he does so, Tommy wonders if he went too far with his words. He worries if he's become like Techno, harsh and cruel.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly shuts his eyes tight, not wanting to think of the issue that much already. He takes a short rest and finalized with a two hour bow training session and leave the facility after, hoping to eat the last of that delicious food from the Capitol before his surely dreadful experience in the Games.</p><p> </p><p>And so, Tommy trains again until his body screams for him to stop.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The last night went away in a blur, the feeling of the delicious food he ate still evident in his mouth. Surprisingly, he didn't have any nightmares last night, only the empty hole of dread in his stomach as he thinks about his private session consciously.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, mate." Philza greets him, the same soft tone in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>"Heyyyy, big man." Tommy replies groggily as he rises from his soft pillows. "The time?"</p><p> </p><p>"9:30, one hour away from the private session." He says rather grimly.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Shit</em>, one hour already? Is Tubbo awake?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, he woke up about fifteen minutes ago."</p><p> </p><p>"W-What? Why'd you wake me up later?" Tommy asks as he jumps out of his bed, chanting the words "fuck" and "shit" as he prepares himself.</p><p> </p><p>"Well I was, but you were being a little shit and decided not to." Phil says as he laughs in the boy's panic, leaving the room for Tommy to clean himself up.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy sighs heavily, putting in the usual uniform for training. He fixes his hair a little, washed his face, brushes his teeth and decided to call it a day.</p><p> </p><p>He soon leaves and sees his friend and mentors already in front of his door.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, let's get going, Tommy." Tubbo says, his eyes shining with soft resolve. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, hurry up already, man. Could've committed great war crimes with the time you overslept." Techno says as he huffs dramatically, Phil laughing at his friend.</p><p> </p><p>He smiles a little and replies with a small "Yeah, let's.", completely ignoring Techno's statement.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo grips his hand firmly, shooting him a comforting smile.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, the pit of nervousness in his stomach dissipates from such an act and he can't help but smile widely back. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Soon enough, Tubbo can't be with him forever. </p><p> </p><p>It's been ten minutes already since Tubbo left for his private session and the pit in his stomach deepens.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that Tubbo was amazing, he saw it himself. The boy was able to shoot accurately with his crossbow and Phil told him that he was easy to catch how the trident worked.</p><p> </p><p>He can't help but feel a sense of pride at how amazing his friend was, but he of course, like the little gremlin he is, won't lose to him.</p><p> </p><p>He clenches his hands, sweat dripping from his skin. He looks back on his many training sessions, recalling each move he made.</p><p> </p><p>He was deep in thought before the sound of large stone doors opening and a person leaving come into his senses.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo shoots him a nervous smile and wave, motioning him that it was his turn.</p><p> </p><p>He feels his stomach flip and he gulps, hoping to calm his nerves.</p><p> </p><p>He hesitantly enters the facility, but quickly changing into a more confident walk.</p><p> </p><p>Stone walls and a glass balcony greets him, filled with guests covered in all vibrant colors.</p><p> </p><p>He recognizes Fundy, the vibrant orange mop of hair and fox ears popping out of the crowd. Instead of his black outfit before, he sees the man dressed in a long seaweed colored coat, striking red lines trimmed into the edges of the fabric with large gold buttons. His usual plain shirt is replaced with the same striking red shirt and his pants were navy blue jeans. He had the same hat, now colored with the seaweed color, the chains still intact.</p><p> </p><p>They all look like they're here to enjoy the platefuls of food rather than to judge his performance, but Tommy suspects it's because he hasn't introduced himself yet.</p><p> </p><p>He stops into the middle of the many weapons and cleans his throat loudly to announce his presence. </p><p> </p><p>He was thankfully given a few glances and that was enough for Tommy.</p><p> </p><p>"Tommy Innit, from District 7." He announces, loud and clear. He was given a few reactions, perhaps recognizing him from Niki's outfit or his "clingy" sacrifice.</p><p> </p><p>Rage still boils in his gut thinking about how the Capitol somehow romanticized his desperate attempt to keep his friend safe.</p><p> </p><p>"I will be sword fighting as my talent." He bows down to them and reaches for a sword, his opponent rising up from his chair.</p><p> </p><p>He wears his armor, the same white armor that his opponent is using. It was the armor that the Peacekeepers use, he can tell.</p><p> </p><p>The two take their positions and a small whistle is heard from the balcony, signaling them to begin.</p><p> </p><p>He readies his sword, and he takes in the offensive, dashing and readying his arm to slash as Techno advised him.</p><p> </p><p>He lets down the slash and unlikely hit no surface. It was a planned hit to wobble his opponent's balance and concentration.</p><p> </p><p>As planned, his opponent quickly dodges into the side, but Tommy could tell that he would do so. He then readies a strong slash into the other's direction and his opponent is fortunately unable to dodge this time. He stumbles a bit from the strong pang made by Tommy's sword, desperately trying to recover and limping away pitifully.</p><p> </p><p>He takes advantage from this second of weakness and jumps up to quickly put up his sword for it to meet the chestplate of his unlucky opponent. His opponent could see it coming and moved albeit slowly to run away from the move, but was too late and the sword hit him right at his side. </p><p> </p><p>His opponent then puts up his hands to show his surrender, and Tommy bites his lip to refrain to make any loud noises of victory. </p><p> </p><p>He looks at the balcony, ready to see the expressions of amazement from his five days worth of vigorous training.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he was met with the judges looking at the food and chatting with themselves, paying Tommy no attention. He only saw a few people look at him, their gazes expressionless and subtly unimpressed. </p><p> </p><p>And for a moment, Tommy's entire world freezes. He clenches his fists with frustration. </p><p> </p><p>Was his training unimportant to these <em>s</em>nobby <em>shitty </em>assholes?</p><p> </p><p>This Capitol gave him nothing but frustration and anger, the folk looking so careless and free thinking with the lives of <em>real</em> children, treating it like some <em>sick</em> entertainment. The clean white walls staring him down ever since he came here, mocking him on how perfect it is compared to the dirty and grubby infrastructure from his own District. The delicious food that were too much for such a small population compared to the empty and starved stomachs of the bigger population from other Districts.</p><p> </p><p>And then he finally sees the absolutely broken face his friend Wilbur had, a product of the treatment the Capitol gave him.</p><p> </p><p>All of his frustrations then boil to Schlatt.</p><p> </p><p>The source of it all.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly turns into his step, readying a mannequin of some kind. He picked a mannequin made of soft material unlike the ceramic ones, and picked up the same sword.</p><p> </p><p>His audience suddenly stirs up, looking at him in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>At least now he has their attention.</p><p> </p><p>He prepares a rope and some dyes, brown specifically.</p><p> </p><p>He lies down the mannequin, painting it with his dye and writing a name with his finger.</p><p> </p><p>He then stabs it with his sword. Not once. Not twice. <em>Not even thrice.</em> He stabbed it <em>seven </em>times.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly ties it up in the neck with the rope, keeping it tight like what he learned in his training.</p><p> </p><p>He moves into the side from his creation, the product of all of his restrained emotions, showing it off to the before uninterested audience, now examining the mannequin with shocked and terrified expressions.</p><p> </p><p>The mannequin had small eyes painted into it, chesnut brown with the dye and had hair painted into the very edge of the head with the same color. The cotton from the seven stab wounds were out for the world to see, looking oddly like guts. And the last and finishing touch was the name "Jschlatt" written very messily.</p><p> </p><p>Was this a good or bad idea?</p><p> </p><p>Tommy honestly didn't give a fuck.</p><p> </p><p>All of his pent up emotions were painted into this mannequin, flooding richly like the dye slapped into it.</p><p> </p><p>He bows, low and mocking, and sneaks a little peak in the flabbergasted expressions they all gave.</p><p> </p><p>A small smirk plays into his face as he turns away from the hanging mannequin, proud on making them look like that and naive on what his actions will bring him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>h-hey. i finished this the very moment i finished sad-ist's new animation OJWNVBJENRBJ i have no words. yes, i am a big sad-ist stannie. and the fact that shes a filipino like me too- anyways, i gift you with this chapter ft tommy being an absolute dumbass enjoy. also pspsps ao3 algorithm, i finally uploaded give me that lovely clout thanmk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Unidentifiable Emotions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warm fire crackling in the brick fireplace can’t even melt Fundy’s icy hands caused by nervousness.</p><p><br/> <br/>The man in front of him, Jschlatt himself, glances him up and down lazily, his very presence oozing intimidation and power. His right hand carried the usual glass filled with whiskey, twirling it just a little bit, only to sip it again.</p><p><br/> <br/>“So,” Jschlatt started as he finished his sip, and Fundy couldn’t help but flinch. “<em>Tommy Innit</em>, huh?”</p><p><br/> <br/>Fundy nods slowly, darting his eyes into the floor to keep away from his gaze. He always knew that Tommy was a person that acted on his emotions before thinking, Wilbur told him stories about the boy’s emotional lack of restraint, but he never thought he would be <em>this</em> bad.</p><p><br/> <br/>“I mean, I would’ve expected it, y’know, since good ol’ Soot was his friend, but<em> fuck.</em>” He chuckles lowly. “Never expected him to be <em>that</em> gusty.”</p><p><br/> <br/>“...Right.” Fundy agrees. He too didn’t expect for the kid to make such a bad decision. “S-So, uh, Schlatt what do you thin-”</p><p><br/> <br/>“God Fundy, you really are hopeless.” He sighs exasperatedly and his free hand cupping his own chin. “What are you gonna do without me? You kill him, dumbass, <em>you kill him.</em>”</p><p><br/> <br/>The fox man gulps in his boss’s usual degrading and what he was hinting for him to do. He slowly nods into Schlatt’s instructions, slightly hesitant.</p><p><br/> <br/>“...Right.” He replies, no choice but to be obedient.</p><p><br/> <br/>The horned man then slams his glass suddenly, making Fundy flinch. He looks directly at his boss’s face, confusion and fear warped into his face. Schlatt is fully glaring at him now, burning with a somewhat anger and Fundy is worried about what words he said to make him feel this way.</p><p><br/> <br/><em>“Are you hesitant, furry?”</em> He asks, dangerous and with suspicion in his eyes.</p><p><br/> <br/>Fundy then quickly makes wild gestures, waving his hands in defense. He then puts Tommy’s safety into the back of his mind, worried in keeping his ass safe for now. </p><p><br/> <br/>He has, after all, skeletons of his own in the closet. Skeletons that he didn’t want, especially Jebediah Schlatt, to see.</p><p><br/> <br/>“N-No! Never. You know how pitiful I am, right? Without you, I’m-I’m useless!” He chants the words that Schlatt has fed him ever since he was transferred into his care, believing it as well whenever he says it more and more. </p><p><br/> <br/>The horned man visibly relaxes, smirk evident in his face as he sinks back into his chair. “Damn <em>right</em>  you are.”</p><p><br/> <br/>As Schlatt downs his drink, an uncomfortable silence dawns upon them.</p><p><br/> <br/>“So, uh, how do I exactly kill him?” He asks, cautious and slow. </p><p><br/> <br/>Schlatt looks at him as if he was some rat and chose not to answer, leaving Fundy to bear the uncomfortable silence until he’s finally dismissed after about ten minutes. </p><p><br/> <br/><em>“Don’t pull any shit, Fundy.”</em> His boss warns him, dripping with menace and peril.</p><p><br/> <br/>As he leaves, he lets out a breath he didn’t think he’s been holding for the entire meeting.</p><p><br/> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The comforting sense of pride has passed away, now replaced with a hole of immense dread and fear.</p><p><br/> <br/>He hasn’t told a single soul on what he did for his private session, keeping the burden to himself.</p><p><br/> <br/>The moment he left the facility, the urge to throw up haunted him before he finally did in the nearest bathroom. He soon ate dinner with his alliance and mentors and he stayed quiet, to which he hid as being tired from his private session.</p><p><br/> <br/>They fortunately let it go, with a few teasing remarks from his allies. </p><p><br/> <br/>And there he woke up, not even noticing how his hands were bundled up to the comfortable sheets and cold sweat dripping into him. He’s had nightmares, thinking of how he would end up being the mannequin he created instead of who it was supposed to be.</p><p><br/> <br/>It’s his second time sleeping for today, the first being his nightly sleep. He slept to pass the afternoon of waiting for the results, his stomach churning just with the thought of it.</p><p><br/> <br/>He opens the door of his room weakly, his eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the kitchen. </p><p><br/> <br/>As his eyes are finally comfortable to the light, he sees the usual people on the couch, lounging comfortably and chatting away and the big television showing the current program.</p><p><br/> <br/>Drista looks the same as ever, her face still covered by the porcelain mask and her blonde hair tied into a loose bun. Her brother, Dream, was talking to her as well, nudging her teasingly here and there. The man looked paler and thinner than usual, his tiredness escaping the porcelain mask that would usually keep all emotions at bay. <br/> </p><p><br/>Tubbo, Ranboo and Sapnap join the conversation with the siblings, laughing at their silly antics. In the side of the kitchen, Techno, Phil and Niki are conversing as well, Techno cracking a joke of some kind and the two laughing boisterously. </p><p><br/> <br/>Tommy thinks if the happy atmosphere would change into an icy one if he told them what he’s done. </p><p><br/> <br/>Another reason to keep it to himself. </p><p><br/> <br/>“Oh, Tommy!” Ranboo exclaims, everyone in the room looking at who Ranboo’s eyes were meeting with. “Hey man, you got a good sleep?”</p><p><br/> <br/>“Yeah, I did.” Tommy replies, rubbing his eyes a little a bit. </p><p><br/> <br/>“Finally had your beauty sleep?” Dream teasingly asks.</p><p><br/> <br/>“Oh, bugger off, Big D.” </p><p><br/> <br/>“Well, I mean, you aren’t wrong I do have a big d-”</p><p><br/> <br/>“<em>DREAM!</em> You’re so disgusting...” Tommy says with disgust over Dream and everyone else’s loud laughter and wheezing. </p><p><br/> <br/>“Oh my God, Dream. Keep it PG, we’ve got kids here, man, <em>kids</em>.” Techno says through nervous laughter.</p><p><br/> <br/>That seems to fuel Dream’s concerning wheezes even more, the man hunching over the floor and holding the carpet in dear life. </p><p><br/> <br/>Finally, Dream calms himself, his lungs eventually having a break.</p><p><br/> <br/>Tommy sits on the comfy couch in front of the large television, still snickering at the man’s struggle to breath from too much wheezing.</p><p><br/> <br/>“Oh right. Tommy, the training scores are going to be announced in like, five minutes or something.” Drista reminds him casually, Tommy flinching.</p><p><br/> <br/>“I-Is it now?” Tommy says quietly, the former nervousness flooding back to him.</p><p><br/> <br/>“Yeah, see? The television has a timer already, and it’s about to start, so get ready.” She points to the electronic. </p><p><br/> <br/>And there it was.</p><p><br/> <br/>About four minutes he’s going to get the lowest score and be hunted down by the Careers in the Games since he’s an easy kill. </p><p><br/> <br/>Soon enough, the world seems to have stopped, the timer and him the only thing existing in this cold room. </p><p><br/> <br/>Minutes turn to seconds, the four minutes being the fastest time has run for him.</p><p> </p><p>And the time runs up, loud booming music is thrown into his ears. </p><p><br/> <br/>“Welcome, one and all, to the 42nd Hunger Games!” The host greets loudly, which everyone recognized as Austin Show.</p><p><br/> <br/>“I’m your host, <em>Auuustin Show!</em>” He introduces himself, making his name longer for maximum effect. “Now, we’re all here to know the Training Scores of our beloved Tributes, one as the lowest and twelve as the highest.” Austin explains. </p><p><br/> <br/>“Let’s get right through it!” The host shouts, something that he did incredibly often. </p><p><br/> <br/>The pictures of the Tributes and their numbers are then shown and Tommy made sure to pay attention. </p><p><br/> <br/>The Tributes and their scores pass away in a haze but Tommy recognized some of their faces.</p><p><br/> <br/>A guy from District 1, KSI, was a face he saw a lot in the hand to hand combat and wrestling stations, his loud booming voice something that can’t be overlooked. He received a dazzling score of 9, and rightfully so, since he’s seen the guy in action.</p><p><br/> <br/>Let’s just say the guy could pack a punch.</p><p><br/> <br/>As the other Tributes pass, he sees another familiar face. A guy from District 2 named Purpled, who he would usually see in the dueling ground beside him, also practicing sword fighting. And he was definitely good at it, being able to defeat his mentor faster than Tommy ever could.</p><p><br/> <br/>Maybe it’s because Tommy’s mentor was Technoblade, the guy who never dies.</p><p><br/> <br/>He hopes that was the reason.</p><p><br/> <br/>Anyways, he looks back at the screen and Purpled gets a 10, even being able to defeat KSI.</p><p><br/> <br/>As his District goes closer and closer, the pit of dread has come back, somehow deeper than before. </p><p><br/> <br/>He tries to distract himself in some way, so he ruffles his hair and goes back to looking at the screen.</p><p><br/> <br/>Ranboo could obviously notice the discomfort and nervousness of his ally, so he reached his hand to the other’s back and patted it awkwardly. </p><p><br/> <br/>“You’ll get a good score, Tommy,” He says solemnly, to which Tommy looked at him with confusion. Ranboo immediately puts out his hand and starts sputtering words, panic flooding into his face like a tsunami. “Cause, I mean, you trained a lot, like, I saw how, uh, hard you trained, so, <em>yeah.”</em></p><p><br/> <br/>Tommy snorts at his friend’s attempt for him to feel better, which succeeded by the way, and then full on laughs. He nudges him playfully in the shoulder, the other boy looking at him with a confused smile. “Thanks, Ranboo, I‘m feeling a lot better now.”</p><p><br/> <br/>“You can just tell me it was bad, Tommy. Even <em>I  </em>knew how bad that attempt was, actually.” He says abruptly, a small smile playing in his face.</p><p><br/> <br/>"Fine, you were absolute <em>shit.</em>"</p><p><br/> <br/>"Oop, there we go."</p><p><br/> <br/>The two boys chuckle, Tommy's nervousness finally diminishing and he takes a look at the screen to see a familiar face.</p><p><br/> <br/>It was the little boy, Michael, that he met during the other day. He was from District 6, so near already to Tommy's own. The boy was able to receive an 7, something that was already high by its own. Tommy didn't see him much in the training center, so he has no idea on what the little boy did for his private session.</p><p><br/> <br/>Another Tribute from District 6 comes, a girl this time, and received a 6. He recognized her face in the ropes course, falling a little bit less than the others.</p><p><br/> <br/>And soon, the shining words of District 7 came on the television, Tommy holding his shirt tight as he forced himself to look at the score.</p><p><br/> <br/>The first was Tubbo, who received a 9, and everyone immediately rejoiced, Techno letting out a deep and gruff  "Let's goooo" and Dream with a more energetic and loud "LET'S GOO" along with the cheers and congratulations of everyone else in the room.</p><p><br/> <br/>Tommy can't help but smile as well, he knew how hard Tubbo trained for this. He pulls his friend and mutters small words of congratulations, despite his growing fear.</p><p><br/> <br/>He can't help but wish for the television to magically turn off or burn into flames. <br/> </p><p><br/>"Now, Tommy Innit!" Austin speaks again, loud and excited. The man in the television darts his eyebrows up as he sees his training score and looks back to the camera, a big smile on his face.</p><p><br/> <br/>"12!"</p><p><br/> <br/>"W-What?" Tommy spurts out, as confused as everyone else in the room. </p><p><br/> <br/>The confusion then changes into loud whooping of cheers, everyone hugging him.</p><p><br/> <br/>All except the District 7 mentors, an unreadable emotion in their eyes. </p><p><br/> <br/>"Tommy! How did you do that? Are you hiding some special skill to us or something? Speak, you child." Drista asks amusingly, bonking him softly with no intention to hurt.</p><p><br/> <br/>"Yeah, Tommy, <em>what did you do?"</em> Techno asks, his voice unusually low.</p><p><br/> <br/>"I-I don't know." Tommy confesses, but he tries to cover it up with a lie or something so that no one wouldn't know. "Maybe it's because you taught me so well? Hahah, maybe that's it."</p><p><br/> <br/>He's quickly pulled up from the collar of his shirt, and meets blood red orbs, glinting with a sort of unidentified feeling. </p><p><br/> <br/>"My training guaranteed you a 9 or somethin'!" Techno exclaims, hysteria deep in his voice. "Tell me Tommy, what, what did you do?"</p><p><br/> <br/>Tommy lets himself completely lax, his body cold to all nervousness. He feels like a corpse in Techno's strict stare that hides his true emotions on the matter.</p><p><br/> <br/>He looks away from Techno's eyes, looking at the white pure floor. "I-I... stabbed and hanged a mannequin and said that it was Schlatt." Tommy sees, almost like a whisper.</p><p><br/> <br/>But it was enough for Techno and the others to hear, the sentence echoing into the thick silence. </p><p><br/> <br/>"B-But that's because I was doing fine, y'know, using all my training, but they, hey! Listen to me Techno!" He tries to explain, but Techno lets his collar go quickly and looks at him in disbelieving eyes. </p><p><br/>“Tommy, all that trainin' I gave you is completely <em>useless</em> when <em>all</em> the Tributes come for you because they see <em>you</em> as a big threat.” Techno says, his deep voice and words leaving vibrations into his spine.</p><p><br/>Tears well up into his eyes and he attempts to talk again but quickly shuts his mouth, resolving that it's not going to do anything, so he walks out and into his own room.</p><p><br/> <br/>The stares that are thrown to his back as he leaves the living room are heavy and burdensome, their remorse for him speaking in volumes.</p><p><br/> <br/>He shuts the door, contemplating if he still wanted to live in this hellhole or not.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>As he lays alone in the room, the cold entrapping his senses and thoughts, the sound of a door creaking is heard throughout it.</p><p> </p><p>He suspects it was Tubbo, or perhaps Phil.</p><p> </p><p>He instead heard a familiar soft and feminine voice greeting him and Tommy immediately whips out of his sheets to see a gentle blue gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, Tommy?” Niki asks, tone full of concern.</p><p> </p><p>“...Yeah. I guess… I, well, I actually don’t know.” The boy says honestly and looking down into the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Comfortable silence dawns upon the room, Niki sitting next to him on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you actually want to kill Schlatt?” Niki questions him bluntly, Tommy’s eyes widening.</p><p> </p><p>He stays silent, Niki nodding with the absolute answer that didn’t even need to be said to understand it. </p><p> </p><p>“Is it because of Wil?” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy slowly nods, not finding the words to express anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Niki stays silent for a moment, as if she was holding in to say something.</p><p> </p><p>She finally blurts it out, Tommy’s eyes shocked and wide to what the girl said.</p><p> </p><p>She looks at him with an unrestrained and unidentifiable expression in her eyes as the words roll out of her tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“What would you do if Wilbur came back to life? Would you still want to kill Schlatt?”</p><p> </p><p>The teen looks at her in shock, restraining his ability to speak at that moment. He tries to laugh it out, a small experimental chuckle to test the seriousness of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>She still stares at him with that raw emotion, something that Tommy has never seen in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Now that he knows that she’s absolutely serious, he replies.</p><p> </p><p>“I still would. Because if Wilbur did come back to life, he probably won’t stay like that forever. ” Tommy looks at the marble floor of the room, his words flooding out of his heart. “People can never come back alive. A dead person’s, just, f-forever dead, yeah? There’s absolutely no going back.”</p><p> </p><p>Niki stares at him with a new emotion in her eyes, something that could resemble both sadness and… relief? It sure looked like it. She nods at him and quickly changes into a soft and friendly smile, leaving him to his own presence. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s good to hear, Tommy. That’s good to hear...” She says as she leaves the room, greeting him a gentle good night.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy thinks back to that conversation that night, confused in what intentions the girl had to ask such questions and stare at him with such emotions.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>wow this chapter took longer than i expected and i blame school *procrastinates cutely* anyways, i feel this is my one of my worst chaps because it feels kind of messy to me? idk. but anyways here ya go. also thank you for the 1100 hits, 91 kudos and all the comments!!! i appreciate it sm and im glad that my first fic is receiving so much good attention mmm. thats the last time im ever going to use exclamation marks ever again, dont expect me to use those tall mfs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Curse of Empathy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They run, panting and fear filling their senses, the woods going deeper and deeper the further the distance they cover. </p><p> </p><p>A faceless man is hunting them down, a most dangerous looking sword in his hands, his bloodlust suffocating the already breathless teens.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo runs as fast as he could, Tommy somehow being left behind. The younger boy, in closer inspection, has his ankle held in a chain connecting to the weapon of the man hunting them down. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy is still trying to run as fast as he could, even when a handicap is keeping him from doing so. Tubbo forces himself to scream incoherent pleas for Tommy to keep up or for the hunter to have mercy for them, the words coming out of his mouth but unheard by his ears.</p><p> </p><p>The world suddenly turns against them, the forest that they have ran from so many meters already, shrinking into a tiny space of trees and the suspicious figure nearing them from the lack of space to run into.</p><p> </p><p>They scream, blood curdling screams, as he sees Tommy be brutally and bloodily killed. Tubbo tries to reach up to Tommy, tears flooding his vision. The boy mouths him words, words that Tubbo can understand.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Help.” </em>
</p><p><br/>...</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo wakes, mid scream, but quickly muffles it with his hands to not wake others up.</p><p> </p><p>His whole world is spinning, sweat dripping in every part of his body.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly hugs himself together, gathering his legs and hugging them close as he silently weeps.</p><p> </p><p>He’s been getting these kinds of dreams ever since he found out what Tommy did for his private session, his death changing every time.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike Tommy, he doesn’t reach out to anyone when he’s had a nightmare, only clinging to himself instead to cry through the whole night.</p><p> </p><p>He glances to the clock on his bedside table, seeing the numbers <em> 4:47  </em>greeting him.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing it as a good enough time to eat breakfast and fix himself up, he hops out of the bed, wiping away the tear stains that are set underneath his cobalt eyes.</p><p> </p><p>As he opens the door to his room, he identifies Phil and Niki’s voices, their tones hushed and secret. His ear leans a bit to the door to at least hear a snippet of what they were saying.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Are you fucking sure,</em> <em>mate</em>?” Phil asks, his tone has become the most serious Tubbo’s ever heard. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Phil, Fundy was able to do it. Fundy was able to do it, Phil!<em> We can have a chance now</em>, Phil, we-we have hope-”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Niki.” Niki quickly stops talking. “...Do you have any idea on what’s going to happen after this? Hm? If Fundy <em> was </em> successful, there are consequences bound to happen, alright? They are <em> bound </em>to happen-”</p><p> </p><p>“And I don’t mind it, Phil! So many of my friends have died from this <em> hellish </em> Games and I could do <em> nothing </em> to stop them, okay? A-All I could do was just <em> pretty </em> them up and send them to it like-like it was some<em> field day</em>, only for them to die and end up me crying. I-I’ve had enough, okay, Phil? Had enough...”</p><p> </p><p>Niki is openly sobbing now, Phil looking at her with remorseful eyes and pulling her into a tight hug. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo has never seen Niki this openly vulnerable, the girl always held herself in a strong smile, soft bravery radiating out of it.</p><p> </p><p>He watches the scene unfold in front of him, the two hugging each other like they were some sort of close knit family.</p><p> </p><p>It reminded him awfully of his own.</p><p> </p><p>All thoughts of his sisters and mother are forcefully shoved away and Tubbo resolves to try to sleep again to not have anymore painful thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>He goes back to his bed, flopping himself there and pulling the pillow close to his face. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t think much about the conversation, instead drowsiness fills his senses and sleeps again, thankfully not experiencing any more nightmares.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Days for Tommy Innit with his team have become more distant, them trying to detach themselves from the boy to not get hurt emotionally for his sure death.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo has become less talkative to him now and Technoblade was completely silent to Tommy’s attempts of small talk or any talk at all.</p><p> </p><p>He understood why they did so, but it was getting painfully lonely for the boy, being left alone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Exiled. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, that’s the word for it.</p><p> </p><p>He was now completely exiled from everyone’s hearts, afraid that they will get nothing but pain from it.</p><p> </p><p>But, a few people still approached him as usual.</p><p> </p><p>Niki, Dream and Drista still talked to him like usual, partaking in any conversation he invited them to or invited him to conversations themselves.</p><p> </p><p>It was relatively a good distraction from the cold silence he has been getting from his very own team.</p><p> </p><p>Niki and Dream would usually talk about their memories of Wilbur, their fondness for the late brunette evident.</p><p> </p><p>Drista talked to him about random things and it had the same feeling of his conversations with Tubbo. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really mind that most of his conversations with others were about a memory that brought him great pain, but it was better than no conversation at all.</p><p> </p><p>In the meantime he was alone again, rotting away in his room with no social interaction. </p><p> </p><p>It was a lonely way to use his remaining time, but it was fine.</p><p> </p><p>It was his fault anyways.</p><p> </p><p>He was being dumb, and this is his punishment for it.</p><p> </p><p>Or was he really..?</p><p> </p><p>He’s been going through an internal dilemma on blaming his friends for leaving him alone with his own stress and negative emotions, but at the same time he can understand why they did so and instead blamed himself and let guilt eat his gut up.</p><p> </p><p>A door creaks, light emitting from the small crack and lighting up the dark room.</p><p> </p><p>He expects Drista to come in and just bombard him with random topics to talk about, unafraid of the idea of losing him from the Games.</p><p> </p><p>Instead he sees Phil, emerald robes glinting and his bucket hat removed from his short blonde hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey mate.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy grunts as a response to the greeting, bundling up the already close blanket even closer to himself.</p><p> </p><p>The older man approaches him with a sort of hesitance, as if Tommy would break if he got a little too fast and close.</p><p> </p><p>“So..” Philza attempts to begin once he’s already sat stiffly at the very end of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, Tommy?”</p><p> </p><p>The question was so obviously stupid that the teen only scoffed as a reply.</p><p> </p><p>The older man lets out a dry and melancholy chuckle, aware of what his peers have treated him and was truly remorseful for Tommy to go through it.</p><p> </p><p>“The way, the way we treated you was horrible, I-I know that.” Phil confesses, stuttering and actually had no idea on what to say.</p><p> </p><p>He just went in the boy’s room to at least apologize for their behavior, but actually had no idea on where to start.</p><p> </p><p>But he glances to Tommy, the boy looking hopeful for anything, even just a drop of an apology was enough for him.</p><p> </p><p>And it made Philza’s heart hurt.</p><p> </p><p>To make a teenager this vulnerable and desperate because of their own selfish need to keep their hearts safe.</p><p> </p><p>It seems that Wilbur’s death still had an effect on them.</p><p> </p><p>He continues, his parental instinct controlling his words instead of his usual common sense. “It...It isn’t your fault, Tommy. A-All of this, it isn’t, <em>it’s not your fault,</em> alright, mate?” His hands have unconsciously gripped the boy’s shoulders, looking at him with teary eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re so, <em> so </em> sorry we treated you like that, Tommy. You made a mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that we,<em> your mentors</em>, were <em> supposed </em> to fix that mistake. We were stupid, man, we were <em> stupid. </em>” The older man looks at the boy in front of him, his tears clearly and shamelessly flowing.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you forgive us, Tommy? And to swear to stop pulling dumb shit?” The man asks him with a small smile and his eyes lachrymose. </p><p> </p><p>The boy nods fast and quick, sniffles coming out of him and wiping his face with his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Phil slowly invites Tommy in a hug with his arm and the teen quickly accepts it, burying his face into the crook of the neck of the fatherly figure.</p><p> </p><p>The boy weeps openly now, Phil caressing his back comfortably and assuring.</p><p> </p><p>As the younger blonde ends up in a speech of quiet snores, he tucks the boy in and leaves the room, feeling that parental love flowing into him again.</p><p> </p><p>And, <em> fuck, </em>just like that, he’s attached again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She looks at the hologram glowing in her large room, mannequins and satin decorating the large space.</p><p> </p><p>It’s her fifth time looking at it ever since the Gamermakers sent it to her about two days ago.</p><p> </p><p>She glances at the beautiful outfits adorned in the mannequins, two matching pieces of elegance and jewelry.</p><p> </p><p>She smiles fondly at it, imagining the two looking absolutely breathtaking in what she’s made for them. </p><p> </p><p>Her gaze flutters again to the hologram, the fancy script making it look like a love letter of olden times.</p><p> </p><p>When it was definitely the opposite of a love letter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Miss Nikita Chiu, </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> We are here to address the clothing you have made for the opening ceremony. We’d like to remind you that outfits cannot be repeated, even if it is changed slightly. Each pair of outfits for the Tributes must be different for each annual opening ceremony. We’d also like to warn you that the President discourages outfits made of non canonical nations such as ‘L’Manberg’ since it will only greatly confuse the public and be seen as an act of defiance against our great nation. We hope you may take heed of this letter and to follow the rules before you receive a penalty for your actions. The next time that you reject these regulations, our next warning may not be written in words. Thank you and we hope you a Happy Hunger Games! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dearly,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The Gamemakers </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It makes Niki laugh at how passive aggressive the letter was, the polite speech disguising the horrid message they were trying to tell her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If you defy our administration again with your clothing, heavy punishment will crush you alive. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She snickers, feeling a sort of thrill with her act of opposition to the government she was bound to never bow on. </p><p> </p><p>This bravery was given all to her from her late friend, Wilbur Soot.</p><p> </p><p>He questioned her as she put on his clothes for the opening ceremony, a question she reflects on every second of the day.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Don’t you miss the friends you’ve made as you clothed them, only to die by the Games?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She could remember the tears that overflowed her bleary eyes, sobbing openly and thinking of how many died right after she formed such a tight bond with them.</p><p> </p><p>Their bodies, being shown on screen, impaled, bloodied, ravaged, crushed, and <em> so </em> many more, the corpses forever glued into her mind.</p><p> </p><p>She tried to detach herself from each Tribute, only failing horribly because of her god forsaken ability to empathize so well. </p><p> </p><p>This big heart of hers only broke and broke by each death, still beating with compassion, no matter how ruined and abused. </p><p> </p><p>But she has hope, the proposal Wilbur offered her giving her more hope.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "But in L'Manberg, Niki, you don't have to go through that anymore. You'll finally be free from the drastic consequences that big heart of yours receives. You'll finally be able to love anyone freely." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She could remember the warm hand the brunette offered her, and her accepting it, the tears quickly changing into happy and euphoric tears.</p><p> </p><p>She smiles at the precious memory, that promise of freedom for her big heart forever replaying in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>Bravery courses through her again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i am back *razzle dazzle* i swear the real hunger games content is coming bnsbjnerj. the interview is coming next chapter so yeah thats pretty pog. i wanted to get into the interview but i wanted to give you some beloved comfort after like some weak angst (definitely not because i want to procrastinate no sir) also this fic is getting so much attention wowie. can you tell how much i love comments when the minute i receive one, i think of some kind of reply</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Explosive Beauty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today was the day of the interview, and the only thing that kept Tommy’s attention was that <em> Vikk Star </em>was here.</p><p> </p><p>The man himself.</p><p> </p><p>In his defense, no one is as classy and poggers as Vikk Star. </p><p> </p><p>Not even Technoblade or Philza Minecraft could compare to the absolute legend.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t catch a glance of his beloved childhood hero in the training center, him somehow always absent. </p><p> </p><p>But now he can see him, in all of his godly glory, in the backstage hidden from the swarms of people.</p><p> </p><p>He wore his usual sapphire blazer, darker slacks in the shade of royal blue and the same blue and red diamond fixed nicely with a dark blue velvet bow into the collar of his formal pearl white shirt. Gold chains dangled on the pockets of the navy blue vest and his smart black glasses balanced into his nose. </p><p> </p><p>The very sight of him made Tommy want to WAP right then and there.</p><p> </p><p>And by WAP, he means Worship and Prayer, <em> nothing else. </em></p><p> </p><p>He was talking to his District’s Tributes, KSI and Simon. They wore completely black outfits, District 1’s gold chains and bright jewels dripping in the dark cloth as the true and main attraction. </p><p> </p><p>He could hardly notice Niki tugging him and Tubbo to the dressing room, guiding them to their outfits. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Tubbo, after his conversation with Phil, everyone has become more social and talkative to him. Technoblade still spoke fewer words than before, Tubbo and Ranboo talked to him with a sort of relief and joy to speak to him freely and Phil was as friendly and supportive as always. </p><p> </p><p>Thinking about his conversation with Phil in his room only brought a blush in his cheeks, embarrassed in showing his emotions with no restraint. </p><p> </p><p>He sees the clothes ready made in the white mannequins. </p><p> </p><p>It had… a completely different color palette to their outfit in the opening ceremony. </p><p> </p><p>The main colors were black and bright red, the colors of Manberg. A black oval jewel with a ruby red cross on the middle of it, a dark gold frame adorned around it. A black dress shirt and a gray blazer and slacks were the main garments, looking oh so unbelievably dark.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at Niki in a sort of panic and disbelief, the girl just returning it with a sympathetic and tragic face.</p><p> </p><p>“Niki wha-”</p><p> </p><p>“I take that the L’Manberg outfits weren’t taken too well, Niki.” Tubbo spoke up, looking at the outfits with a cold and shadowed expression. </p><p> </p><p>“T-They, they weren’t.” Niki confesses. “They sent me a letter talking about it and everything.”</p><p> </p><p>The boys look at the outfits with that same expression, fear of what that letter told Niki.</p><p> </p><p>“But that doesn’t mean we’ll just them, well,<em> stomp </em>on us.” She continues, that same fire in her eyes like the one they saw in the opening ceremony.</p><p> </p><p>“You see that red cross?” She points to the black jewel, the two boys nodding, already aware of its position. “Alright, me and Austin are really close with each other and I told him that he should give you a moment to press it to really uh, <em> wow </em> the audience.”</p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean, Niki?” Tubbo asks curiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it isn’t a surprise if I told you, right?” She remarks with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do <em> anything </em> to hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>It was amazing how a person's words could be so simple yet so comforting.</p><p> </p><p>She dresses them up and as she does so, they glance at the television to look at the other Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>The District 1 Tributes were very much loud, KSI and Simon overlapping Austin with their booming voices.</p><p> </p><p>The next Tributes were a guy named Purpled and he took in a sort of chill and easygoing persona, making friendly quips here and there and some other irrelevant person they didn’t take much notice on.</p><p> </p><p>In District 4 was a man named Awesamdude, his clothes promoting a bold gold and a parakeet green. He showed two sides of himself, on one hand he was friendly, but on the other hand he was an authoritative and harsh figure, showing his intimidating nature at times. His other Tribute was out of their minds quickly, not holding any significance to them.</p><p> </p><p>As more Tributes went on, they found themselves drifting away in their thoughts, nervous in the thought of being in front of so many people. They suddenly snap back to reality, hearing a familiar voice of a child.</p><p> </p><p>Michael.</p><p> </p><p>The boy was sitting in the chair with a girl, the both looking completely awkward and silent.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo saw the little boy before in the training center, not finding the strength to reject his little efforts to talk with him and Ranboo. Based on their past conversations, Ranboo couldn’t either.</p><p> </p><p>They talked about random things, the little boy talking about his parents and his District, evidently happy in someone treating him like his age and not like some target to kill in the arena.</p><p> </p><p>The two teenagers were glad to have had a little ray of sunshine in this trying time, his innocence and positive energy different from the heavy bloodlust the other Tributes carried.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy remembers his voice as well, since he’s reflected on his words, wondering if he made any negative impact on the boy.</p><p> </p><p>He talks with Austin, timidity evident. </p><p> </p><p>The host grins invitedly, easing the boy up with small talk and officially making Michael comfortable, based on his change of little movements.</p><p> </p><p>He was now swaying his legs happily, a bright smile on his face which made the audience loudly and all together “aw”.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Michael,” Austin starts, getting Michael’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>“You received a seven as your training score, right? ” Michael nods fast and childishly. “That’s quite high for your age.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now tell me,” His voice became deeper and lower, mimicking a sort of secretive and whispery tone when he in fact had thousands of people watching this live and a mic near his lips. “How did you do it?”</p><p> </p><p>The Tribute cocks his head, before a sort of understanding clicks in, showing with the way his eyes widened. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s a secret.” the boy replies, a smile on his face again, a finger on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you tell us then? We’re all <em> so </em>curious.” Austin requests the same whispery tone in his voice, Michael shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>The Tribute bumps his little hand on the shoulder of the older man softly. “It’s not a secret if I tell you, <em> silly. </em>Mr. BadBayHalo told me not to tell anyone.” </p><p> </p><p>The whole audience “aw”s again, consecutively and echoing.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s good.” Techno mutters under his breath as he watches the interview.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy and Tubbo didn’t even notice him enter the room, his presence being sort of hidden to everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>“Niki seems to have dressed you well.” He praises, in his own <em> charming </em>way. </p><p> </p><p>The pinkette has the same aesthetic as always, crimson red and fancy clothing. His normally fully braided hair was let loose, few small braids freely waving. His crown sat still in the silky mop of hair and his cape remained, although somehow more grandiose with gold epaulettes.</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, I’m here because you two are comin’ next.” He announces, the two already aware. Techno sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just be yourself, but like, somehow, not <em> too </em>much. Yeah? You get what I mean? Talkin' about you, Tommy.” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy makes a face again but quickly shakes it off since he was aware he can’t afford another fuck up.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, yes, I understand, I am very poggers and women <em> swarm </em> me. That is me, Tommy Innit, slayer of men."</p><p> </p><p>"See <em> this </em> is what I meant." Techno says, although holding in his laughter himself.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I talk about arson?" Tubbo asks innocently, contradicting his question.</p><p> </p><p>"No Tubbo, you can't." Techno deadpanned. </p><p> </p><p>"Awwww." Tubbo says with disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy, on the other hand, is dying from laughter from Tubbo in the background. He holds Tubbo's shoulder and gives a sort of 'reassuring' thumbs up to Techno. "Don't worry Blade, we can pull this off! People <em> love </em> us! Especially women."</p><p> </p><p>"Doubt." Techno replies with an unbelieving expression and Tommy sighing loudly.</p><p> </p><p>"You're always like this. You just go mimimimimimimi oh I'm Techno mimimimi and I'm the best hahah you all su-"</p><p> </p><p>"District 7, it's your turn."</p><p> </p><p>Tommy abruptly stops, Tubbo flinching as well. Their hands suddenly turn cold and their hearts beat faster than it ever has.</p><p> </p><p>"Good luck." Techno whispers between them and into both of their ears, his voice coming out as a whisper, making the two jump. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh you fuckin-"</p><p> </p><p>"Can't be late, y'know? You have to hurry now," he puts his hands on the two boys' backs, pushing slightly. "<em> Shoo." </em></p><p> </p><p>They quickly regain their balance and walk briskly to the stage, no time for grace or poise. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy quickly latches his hand into Tubbo's, stage fright bound to take him down without so. </p><p> </p><p>Unluckily for them, he did so the moment they entered the stage, the entirety of Manberg seeing the sign of affection. </p><p> </p><p>This makes the audience immediately react to it out of joy, screeching and coddling like some birds at their friendship.</p><p> </p><p> "District 7 everybody!" Austin introduces throughout the noises of joy from the crowd. "Tommy Innit and Toby Ander!"</p><p> </p><p>They sit down on the plush chairs opposite to the host, the claps from the audience bound to make them deaf. </p><p> </p><p>"I<em> love </em> your outfits, Nihachu <em> never </em> fails to impress, does she?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, Niki really is amazing." Tubbo says, his tone soft and Tommy nods vigorously as a reply.</p><p> </p><p>"Now," Austin starts. "You're aware that you're being called Clingy Duo, right?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yes." "Yep." They both answer, forcing it out without the anger in their tones. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, what do you feel about it?"</p><p> </p><p>Tommy answers first, making sure to play around with the Capitol.</p><p> </p><p>"Well first of all that is so <em> weirdchamp </em> ." He starts, the crowd tenses and everyone else he knew looked at him with a "you had one job" look, but he quickly follows it up with "First of all, <em> Tubbo </em> is the clingy one, not me."</p><p> </p><p>The audience laughed in both relief and amusement. </p><p> </p><p>"Wow, you had us tense in a moment there." Austin remarks, making sure to add a giggle or two to make it less awkward. </p><p> </p><p>"Tubbo, do you have anything to say against his claim?"</p><p> </p><p>"I can't even say anything because he's right." The spectators laugh again. </p><p> </p><p>"What's your favorite thing from your District? Is there a girl waiting for you there, perhaps?" </p><p> </p><p>"Correction, <em> girls. </em>They swarm me, Austin Show. They go "Oh my God it's Tommy Innit" and ask me to hang out sometime." The audience laugh boisterously as Tommy and Tubbo snicker a little themselves.</p><p> </p><p>"How about you, Tubbo? Are you like Tommy who, as he claims, is swarmed with women?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh God no, but I do like bees." </p><p> </p><p>"...Bees?"</p><p> </p><p>"I just really like bees." Tubbo says, his tone fond and unnaturally soft.</p><p> </p><p>The audience swoon at that, Tubbo sure that his mentors are probably grinning right now.</p><p> </p><p>"Now, let's get a little serious now." The host says as his voice is in that whispery tone again. </p><p>"We've seen how true your friendship is, you know, Tommy going so far as to volunteer to be and be safe with you, your little smiles whenever you're together and you holding your hands to comfort each other it's just-" Austin groans comically, emphasizing how much the Capitol loved their relationship. "What would you do once you go into the arena? How would you keep each other safe from all harm? <em> And what would you do if any of you weren't able to do so?" </em></p><p> </p><p>The duo gulps as the audience look at them with teary expectation, surely enjoying this little drama given to them.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy looks at the floor before he looks to the camera and takes hold of the question, "I'd protect Tubbo <em> even </em> if I die. That was my whole plan when I volunteered. I'll do <em> anything </em> to keep him safe."</p><p> </p><p>And it's surprisingly genuine and true. </p><p> </p><p>That's the whole reason why he went here.</p><p> </p><p>To keep Tubbo safe.</p><p> </p><p>The Capitol looks at him with a misery that could be seen in people who watched some sort of television drama and Austin sits there silently and mutters a small "Wow...".  </p><p> </p><p>"What's your response to this, Tubbo?"</p><p> </p><p>The boy looks at his friend with teary eyes but quickly hides it with a smile. "I'd say the same to you."</p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck these kids are so genuinely selfless with each other, what the hell? </em> Austin thinks to himself, bepuzzled with how true they are to each other. </p><p> </p><p>He clears his throat quickly and puts on a smile. "Actually, Miss Nihachu wanted to show everyone a surprise!" The audience quickly stops their pity session and lights up with excitement.</p><p> </p><p>The Capitol is so easy to distract. </p><p> </p><p>The two boys understand, and quickly look at the jewel on their collar.</p><p> </p><p>"Would you mind showing us?" Austin asks politely and the duo nod their heads, unaware even of what Niki had in mind. </p><p> </p><p>They stand up and they press the red cross.</p><p> </p><p>As they do so, tiny explosions erupt around the outfit, giving little sounds of booming. The spectators stand away from their seats, looking with gaping expressions and Austin whoops and hypes up their outfits. </p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, they feel no sensation from the explosions, no pain whatsoever.</p><p> </p><p>As the finishing explosion stops, it being bigger than the other ones and being set in the detonator jewel, the real outfit is shown to the public. </p><p> </p><p>The pitch black and bright red are replaced with the same colors of L'Manberg, blue and red brightly shining.</p><p> </p><p>The oval jewel set on the collar had it's red cross replaced with a yellow one, made of citrine instead of ruby.</p><p> </p><p>The former black dress shirt was replaced with pure white and had small red buttons connected with gold chains. The dull gray blazer was changed into the same navy blue, the fabric looking rich with darker blue fancy patterns. The black slacks were replaced with cream pants and red silk was connected to it through the waist and ankles. </p><p> </p><p>The teenagers were amazed, their mouths wide and making noises of astonishment.</p><p> </p><p>The audience clapped loudly, amazed by the little show before it's revealing and the true colorful beauty hidden by the boring black.</p><p> </p><p>"Give it up for Nihachu!" Austin says, dragging out Nihachu for excitement.</p><p> </p><p>The camera turns to her and she smiles warmly, waving her hand graciously.</p><p> </p><p>As the attention turns back to the duo, Dream speaks up besides her. </p><p> </p><p>"Wilbur loved explosions, always thought they were kind of pretty. Weird guy, wasn't he?" He looks at Nihachu, or at least she thinks he does, his mask still intact on his face. "Is that where you got it from?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." Niki replies curtly. "It was...”</p><p> </p><p> “Schlatt wouldn’t take those outfits kindly, you know that right, Niki?”</p><p> </p><p>The girl just chews on her lip and averts his gaze. “I’m not going to just <em>bow down</em> to their rules. You know that, Dream.”</p><p> </p><p>The masked man chuckles lowly, already knowing of Niki’s unhealthy obsession with Wilbur’s dream.</p><p> </p><p>Hahah, dream.</p><p> </p><p>Get it?</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur had another dream as well, him reminding Dream that he was the only person he ever told it to.</p><p> </p><p>But that’s a story for another time.</p><p> </p><p>For now, he has to look at these people who are completely blinded by Wilbur’s ideals and to see it all fall out. </p><p> </p><p>He can’t wait to see what’s in store for all these<em> interesting </em>people.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>btw, i made the tributes for each district have an interview by them together instead of an individual one. tubbo and tommy should not be separated at all costs. when they get separated, assume that i have lost all hope and want to write angst. also hahah remember the times where I uploaded daily hahah</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Domestic Moonlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For their last day wandering in the Capitol, they took a little walk around the entire facility, soaking in the beautiful sights before they meet unpleasant and puke-inducing ones.</p><p> </p><p>They stopped by an ice cream shop and were surprisingly given to them for free since the shop owner revealed they were her favorites for the Games this year. As they strolled around the lush gardens with hints of white marble then and there, they meet a few Tributes in the way.</p><p> </p><p>Michael was there, checking the Chrysanthemum in quiet amazement. He seemed to have caught sight of the two and quickly waddled to the two, giving them a good morning. </p><p> </p><p>"Hello Tubbo and Tommy!" He greets them with a cheery tone and a bright smile. The two couldn't resist the urge to smile, Tommy being more resistant. </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Shit</em>, I'm a big man, I'm a big man, I'm a big man, I'm a big man, I'm a big man, alright? I will <em>not </em>cry to a little boy greeting me, nuh uh, not happening not, <em>aaaaa</em>" He chants under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>They see another man tending to the beautiful flowers as well, recognizing him as Awesamdude. </p><p> </p><p>He looked very focused to the flowers that it made him look intimidating, despite him <em>literally</em> tending flowers. They didn't speak up to him since he looked overly concentrated. Michael, however offered a helping hand to the greenette, the duo expecting to see the tall man to lash out into the young boy, but instead received a bright "Sure!" and told him what to do as the boy listened intently. </p><p> </p><p>It was surely a sight to see. </p><p> </p><p>They left the scene quickly as Michael gave them a "Goodbye!" while waving his hands.</p><p> </p><p>After that, they spent the rest of the day in each other's presences and felt for once, serene in this shithole. </p><p> </p><p>But, a figure caught Tommy's eye.</p><p> </p><p>A figure looking as if it was soaked with a sort of slippery liquid, its skin pale and seemingly dead. Despite its dark color palette, its bright yellow sweater with splashes of dark blue drooping and maroon beanie perched on his dull brown hair gave it a sort of more lively look. It wandered around the campus, the people looking at it weirdly but shifted their focus swiftly on other things.</p><p> </p><p>Everything about the figure seemed familiar, but he quickly shakes it off Tubbo talks about the different war crimes.</p><p> </p><p>Might've been just a weird fashion thing in the Capitol.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The day today was absolutely fun with Tommy, the experience feeling like it was straight from District 7, their hometown.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, another feeling weighs him down.</p><p> </p><p>Tomorrow would be the day that he and his friend would most likely die. </p><p> </p><p>Yet, he faces himself with Dream in the balcony of the District 7 suite, the moonlight coaxing them both in it’s own mysterious and comforting way.</p><p> </p><p>Something about the lime green clad man was always so mysterious and reserved, even though he acted like he wore his heart on a sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>His cheery attitude felt like he had an audience watching at him, every little action looking like it was to save face.</p><p> </p><p>And that unnerved Tubbo greatly.</p><p> </p><p>He knew Tommy for a long time already, so he didn’t need much to worry about him. He knew what to do in case the younger boy was in an emotionally tight spot, but for Dream, he knew nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He was as powerful as Technoblade.</p><p> </p><p>But he wasn’t as mentally stable.</p><p> </p><p>How does he know this?</p><p> </p><p>The man reeked of instability. </p><p> </p><p>It made him nervous, knowing that he wouldn’t know what to do once the man lost all reins of his mental health.</p><p> </p><p>The guy was as strong as Technoblade for God’s sake, what would happen if he got into a rampage because of his bottled up emotions? </p><p> </p><p>And so, here he was, facing an emotionless mask hiding a possible excessively emotional face.</p><p> </p><p>“Why’re you here, Tubbo?” The man asks, turning back into the view of the city lights and looking dazed as he props his elbows in the marble handles. </p><p> </p><p>“I was just wondering where you left after dinner, you looked kind of odd when Tommy made that GeorgeNotFound joke.” he says, making the other man flinch but quickly return to his usual calm demeanor. </p><p> </p><p>Right, he should be giving context on what happened that made him think this way. </p><p> </p><p>Earlier dinner, Tommy made a little joke concerning Dream's fellow tribute on his own Hunger Games.</p><p> </p><p>The masked man was reading a letter to himself near the fireplace, looking entirely focused in the words.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy, like the little gremlin he was, took a sneak peak in what the man was reading and read the greeting of the sender.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Little Duckling’? This a letter to you by some girl, big man? Perhaps GeorgeNotFound?” The teen wiggled his eyebrows, to which the man chuckled a little forcibly at.</p><p> </p><p>To anyone else, that would be a miniscule detail and be shrugged off as him laughing at another horrible joke by Tommy Innit. But Tubbo couldn’t stop but see the concerned glance Sapnap gave him across the room. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t help that he held the paper even tighter and that he excused himself to the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>It was common knowledge that Dream and his fellow Tribute, GeorgeNotFound were shipped excessively together. </p><p> </p><p>It was also common knowledge that during their time in the arena, George received severe trauma in the eyes, making him permanently blind.</p><p> </p><p>He could remember when they talked during dinner back then, and the subject touched jokes about George and if Dream was comfortable with them. </p><p> </p><p>The man seemed stunned at the question but chuckles. </p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m comfortable with it, uh, no worries.” The boys look at him apprehensively and the man catches it, “<em> Seriously</em>, I’m fine with it. I’d even <em> encourag</em><em>e</em> it, makes me feel like he’s still... God, nevermind.” He laughs the tension out.</p><p> </p><p>They take the hint and drop the subject as they eat.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you that I’m fine with those jokes, Tubbo. <em> And I mean it. </em>” Dream repeats, putting him back to the present. </p><p> </p><p>“...Are you sure, big man?” The teen asks slowly, taking his time to not make the man uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>But I guess pushing this subject would make the man uncomfortable already.</p><p> </p><p>Ah fuck it, he won’t be able to rest the thought of not getting this out of Dream’s chest. </p><p> </p><p>“I mean, if I survived, and, uh, Tommy wasn’t able to come back from the Games fully or...<em> at all </em> ,” Tubbo gulps as he thinks about it, his eyes catching the way Dream stiffened. “I won’t even be able to stand to hear his <em> name </em>, since it would, well, break my heart.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “What do you want? </em>” Dream says in a threatening manner, bearing hostility. </p><p> </p><p>The teen would be lying if he wasn’t intimidated, but he stood his ground and continued. “I want to know if you’re<em> truly </em> fine with it, Dream. No lies, just the plain, <em> fucking </em> truth.”</p><p> </p><p>The blonde fully faces him now and the emotionless black dots of his mask look the poor boy down.</p><p> </p><p>“...I am because it makes me feel like...” He sighs heavily, his voice quiet and low. “Like… he’s still there. Like he’s still<em> fully </em> alright. That he can still <em> see </em> me and his own family. I-It’s a terrible way to cope, bu-but, what-what was I to do, alright?!” He screams with a teary tone. </p><p> </p><p>“But I know that those jokes are like, God, like an insult to him, but I can’t help it. It-It makes me feel like everything’s back to normal and that he never actually got hurt. It’s a selfish way to cope, but, I-I can’t help it, alright, Tubbo? I can’t help it...”</p><p> </p><p>The usually charismatic and self-confident man was now openly sobbing, Tubbo looking at him with sheer pity and just awkwardly pats him in the shoulder, tipping his toes a little to reach the height. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright, Dream, it’s alright. We won’t make any jokes of him anymore since it really is, um, quite <em>unhealthy</em> to use that as your coping mechanism. You have to face the fact that George isn’t well, he’s <em> not </em>what he used to be.” He comforts, or at least he tries to.</p><p> </p><p>They stay like that for a while until Dream speaks up. </p><p> </p><p>"It's amusing to see you all chase Wilbur's ideals, like blind mice."</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo looks up, confused, and instead of meeting a porcelain mask, he sees two brilliant emerald eyes, dark with tears. He wore a smile that had anything but amusement.</p><p> </p><p>It's the first time he ever saw the man's face since he always kept the mask on, even when he was with them. </p><p> </p><p>"What do you mean, Big D?" He asks curiously as the man pulls away from him and instead looks again at the beautiful sparkling of miniscule lights and white marble.</p><p> </p><p>"Reminds me of... me. And George. And Sapnap. Three friends who thought they could change the world by getting rid of the Games. Instead of getting a free country, we got trauma!" He laughs, deranged and unrestrained. </p><p> </p><p>It's the first time he's seen Dream so... unhinged.</p><p> </p><p>The man was always composed and kept himself strictly in the persona he made for himself, all emotions checked. </p><p> </p><p>Now he sees the same guy laugh boisterously as he cries pathetically from all the loss he's handled from this puppet show the Capitol made. </p><p> </p><p>And it scares him.</p><p> </p><p>It scares Tubbo how, if somehow he survived from the arena, he'd have to end up like the broken shell of a human in front of him, forever playing to the role given to him and keeping all these strong emotions inside him from the whole world to see.  </p><p> </p><p>He can't even <em>bear</em> to imagine it.</p><p> </p><p>"But,<em> hah</em>, I hope you never end up like me. I-I hope that you would've never even been chosen. Maybe even <em>born</em>. <em>Fuck</em>, you're a great kid Tubbo. No kid should experience the shit I've gone through, bad or not, really." He confesses, patting the chestnut hair of the younger affectionately, making him look at him bewilderedly.</p><p> </p><p>"And I mean this sincerely," He looks at Tubbo with a genuinely jovial smile and his eyes shining with the residue of tears.</p><p> </p><p>"May the odds be <em>ever</em> in your favor."</p><p> </p><p>The boy looks at him with wide cobalt eyes and looks like he was in a loss for words.</p><p> </p><p>He leaves the scene as he stays for a few seconds to look at the nightscape with Dream as he goes back to his room, not noticing the focused eyes he was given to in his wake. </p><p> </p><p>As the boy completely leaves the balcony, Dream stares at the landscape laid out for him in a dazed way. Not even noticing the tears that flow freely into his cheek. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Tommy, you still awake?" A deep voice rings outside of his door.</p><p> </p><p>He recognizes the voice and quickly replies, "Yeah, I'm awake!"</p><p> </p><p>The door is swung slowly and the pinkette is now on full view. Tommy shuffles out of his bed and just looks at him with an expecting expression.</p><p> </p><p>"...So?"</p><p> </p><p>"I was jokin', that was a test to check if you were <em>actually</em> sleepin'."</p><p> </p><p>"<em>PWAHAH</em>, No way... Wait, really?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course not." He says in his rough voice to deliver small quips.</p><p> </p><p>"God, you had me nervous for a second. So what do you want then, big man?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, uh," The usually eloquent man stutters, tripping in his words. "Just thinkin' of sayin' sorry to uh, shouting at you when your score came up. I'll give you someone that I normally don't let anyone touch."</p><p> </p><p>"A girl?" Tommy asks a little bit too quickly.</p><p> </p><p>"No, I'm <em>lonely</em> Tommy, how would I ever get a girl?" He asks with humor in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Then I'm not interested."</p><p> </p><p>The older man sighs but continues in what he was doing, unbundling his cape to show a cotton of a dog.  </p><p> </p><p>"I had to smuggle him from the escort because pets aren't allowed in the suite. Which is absolutely <em>unbelievable</em> since Floof is such a <em>good boy.</em>" Techno says as he coddles the dog excessively. </p><p> </p><p>"Here." He brings the dog to Tommy's face, a little bit too hesitant, but the intention is there. </p><p> </p><p>The boy slowly takes hold of the dog and feels its tongue lick him in the nose, making him aww.</p><p> </p><p>"This feels... weirdly therapeutic." Tommy says as he feels the dog warm up to him.</p><p> </p><p>"I know right?" Techno says excitedly, his crimson eyes usually dull with monotone neutrality now lighting up with joy. </p><p> </p><p>As he plays around with Floof, a genuine smile of happiness creeps into his lips, Technoblade looking at him with soft pride to be able to make Tommy this joyful.</p><p> </p><p>He'll be sure to award Floof later.</p><p> </p><p>"I...I forgive you, Techno." The boy says quietly. "I was a bit of a... well... asshole when I did all that for my private session. I'm aware of it now, really. So, I hope you forgive me as well." He says as he looks down, away from the eyes of the older and continued to play with the dog. </p><p> </p><p>Techno looks at him with surprise, but quickly warps into a soft and fond smile.</p><p> </p><p>"I forgive you as well, Tommy."</p><p> </p><p>The younger boy looks at him with a incredulous expression but quickly gives a small smile of relief and nods his head.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, Techno took Floof away to give him sleep.</p><p> </p><p>As the teen settled down into the soft comforter, he mutters a small "G'night" and leaves the room, silently closing the door.</p><p> </p><p>"So," the man behind the door all this time said, a smile in his face. "Was the heist for Floof worth it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Very much." Techno replies, giving a lopsided smile. "You're quite greedy aren't you, Phil? We could've just had me by myself and apologize to him without Floof. We would've gotten a serious punishment since the Capitol's real serious about their rules, no matter how irrelevant."</p><p> </p><p>"And look at you suffer terribly with your social anxiety? <em>Fuck no.</em>" He says as he chuckles. "Believe me, it was <em>all</em> worth it."</p><p> </p><p>"...Point made."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i solely made this chap to set up dream in this book and to give full closure between tommy and techno. this is the calm before the storm just saying. the next chap has them all fighting for the hunger games already. wow, a hunger games au finally makes hunger games au content after 12 chaps amazing. just make sure to not get too attached with some characters and youll be fineeeee. but if you chose the wrong character than sadge. also, in each games, i decided to allow two winners if theyre in the same district. i simply did what i wanted to do the moment i read hunger games again</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Reasons for Perseverance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt like yesterday when they ate their first luxurious meal served to them by the Capitol through the lavish train that will soon lead them to their inevitable deaths.</p><p> </p><p>Now they stand in front of Niki, the girl fixing their outfits for the battle soon to come.</p><p> </p><p>She was in the lobby for District 7, the chutes leading them to their spawns a hallway away. </p><p> </p><p>As she fixes an olive green bandana into Tommy’s neck and a candy red one on Tubbo, she mutters into them sweet encouragements and words of hope. </p><p> </p><p>They were wearing an outfit consisting of a normal black shirt, a plain black windbreaker, forest green cargo pants and dark brown sturdy boots. </p><p> </p><p>Based on the outfit, they could tell that the biome picked for them would be a sort of forest since it didn’t protect someone from both extreme heat and frigid cold. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, you’ll do fine, alright?” Niki tells them, softly smiling to the two boys. “You’ll be fine, okay? You’ll be fine...” She hugs them into a tight hug, the two not even bothering to resist it. </p><p> </p><p>They ever so subtly lean into the warm touch and they wouldn’t want to say it, but they definitely melted into it. </p><p> </p><p>“If anything happens right now, don’t be panicked.” The stylist whispers between the necks of the two, widened eyes as her response. </p><p> </p><p>A sudden bang is heard through the door, the three jolting in surprise, but Niki recovers faster than they did.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, they’re already here.” She says ever so calmly, the slight fear recognizable even through the soft smile she wore. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t panic, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” She says reassuringly as the boys look at her with frightened expressions. </p><p> </p><p>The intruders behind the door finally open the door with much needed force and the stylist lets go of the two boys from her tight hold, releasing them with a teary smile. </p><p> </p><p>As the intruders, Peacekeepers, swarm her, she gives them a solemn expression, a face full of emptiness, as she gives a mock salute similar to Wilbur’s.</p><p> </p><p>“It was never meant to be.”</p><p> </p><p>The boys could only stand in shock as they scream, resisting the strong hands on them to force them into the chutes. </p><p> </p><p>“Niki, no!” They shout, voice cracking as sobs escape their mouths. </p><p> </p><p>Six Peacekeepers keep her into a tight hold, her actions of prevention in vain and futile. Her expression was one that would be found in a battlefield or a fight between wolves, fierce and persevering. </p><p> </p><p>They could only hyperventilate in shock as they’re carried by the Peacekeepers like a sack of rice and into the chutes. They bit and fidgeted, yet the obvious composure in the ones they attacked proved it was all for nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Alas, the duo are separated into their chutes, as screams and sounds of pain being afflicted can be heard whilst they go up into the battlefield.</p><p> </p><p>The glass barrier slowly makes their way down, the arena showing its fullness to the Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>The blinding light makes their teary eyes squint and when they finally cope, they hurriedly look for the other, concern etched within them. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a forest biome, a very deep forest at that. </p><p> </p><p>They meet each others’ frantic gazes and look to the Cornucopia in front of them, its gold horned shape reflecting the sun’s rays. It was a beautiful sight, hiding it's dark and repellent history and nature. </p><p> </p><p>They briefly meet eyes with Ranboo and Drista, their figures far across them.</p><p> </p><p>The District 12 Tributes look worried by the duo's disheveled expressions, Drista's body language showing it as her mask still hid her face.</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts jumbled from the sight they just saw, they quickly try to regain the reins of their mind again, desperately trying to calm themselves.</p><p> </p><p>The heavy drums sync well to their ever so fast heartbeat, not helping very well to the idea of calming themselves down. The alliance’s meet each others’ eyes as the clock nears the intimidating one. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 3… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts run rampant into their head, what just happened before all this? What will happen next? Shit, he’s about to be slaughtered alive if he doesn’t calm down what the fu-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 2… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo! Right, Tubbo. He has Ranboo and Drista, and they’re pretty good fighters, he’ll be fine… right? They’ll all be fine, okay? Yeah... yeah! Fuck, he has no time to think anymore he needs to concen-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 1. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Beeeeeep!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The horn blares loudly, indicating the Tributes to flee or to risk getting into the Cornucopia. They’ve planned this, of course they have.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers what he has to do in the heat of the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Grab as much supplies as he can, and if he's feeling lucky, get a weapon. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t dare look at his fellow Tributes, only focusing on the various backpacks that sit in the grassy fields, the grass blades now smothered with blood. </p><p> </p><p>He holds back a breath as he picks up about three backpacks, ignoring the pained screams of the bloodbath around him. </p><p> </p><p>Thinking it was good enough, he sneaks a peek into the sure bloody Cornucopia.</p><p> </p><p>And he was right.</p><p> </p><p>KSI and Simon were in a rampage, killing those who were foolish enough to reach into the weapons dangling into the walls mockingly. Punz and Purpled, the brothers of District 2, had their own fair share of killings, the blood flooding out of their shining iron swords. </p><p> </p><p>He sees the figure of his ally, the girl killing those who dared approach her with throwing knives and plucking them out from the limping bodies graciously as she slashes them right in the neck, the blood flowing like a water stream.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Ranboo was picking up materials as well, while Tubbo guarded him with a newfound axe in his hand. </p><p> </p><p>As he runs away while waiting for everyone to group up, he feels a bloodlust near him. </p><p> </p><p>A Tribute attempts to sneak attack him with a heavy axe, screaming the words, “If I don’t kill you, you’ll be a great problem to handle in the future!”</p><p> </p><p>He’s unfortunately sniped by District 2 Tribute Punz with a bow and arrow, the ice blonde’s eyes sharp with focus. </p><p> </p><p>He cocks his head to the side, a silent signal for Tommy to retreat before he changes his mind.</p><p> </p><p>And he abides, leaving the bloodbath with a puzzled mind and vigorous sweat, running into a spot that can hide him well from Tributes he wouldn’t dare welcome.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You didn’t have to be that obvious, Punz. What happened with your amazing skills? People are going to think you’re soft now.” Purpled teases as he retreats with his brother into the woods as they have had their fair share of cleaning.</p><p> </p><p>“If the guy died, the client would be <em> mad </em>, Purpled.” He whispers in a monotone voice, careful for the camera not to pick it up. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t really matter, since they already had a man inside to just switch the cameras, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.</p><p> </p><p>That was their whole thing, being careful.</p><p> </p><p>The two were from the District that supplied the nation’s supplier of Peacekeepers, giving them an advantage to train just like District 1 and District 4.</p><p> </p><p>Basically, the two were very dangerous Careers.</p><p> </p><p>They originally volunteered to show pride to their District as taught by their early tutors when they were younger. </p><p> </p><p>But, another reason popped up with a certain client giving them a hefty sum for a job. </p><p> </p><p>It was a simple bodyguard job. </p><p> </p><p>They were to protect who the client wanted to at the very end of the Games.</p><p> </p><p>As easy as that.</p><p> </p><p>But the job is suddenly harder when one of the guys he needs to protect is an absolute <em> dumbass </em>.</p><p> </p><p>If he didn’t help earlier, the guy would’ve just died right then and there in the very start of the Games.</p><p> </p><p>Which is not very ideal, if he must say so himself. </p><p> </p><p>He sighs, asking himself if it even is worth it to persevere this much for the job. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tommy finally stops into a spot, panting heavily, as he checks the materials in the bags again.</p><p> </p><p>For the first bag, he finds two red apples, an extra shirt, two raw porkchops in a plastic bag, iodine and a pack of crackers. He's eaten one of the apples already and about two crackers as he ran.</p><p> </p><p>The second, he found a golden apple, something that Techno explained to him was. Basically, it was a successful product of one of the Capitol's projects, and gave two minutes of absorption health and five seconds of regeneration. It wasn't a very common item to come through with the backpacks because of it's useful effects, so he takes note to hide it in a better place in his backpack for no one to steal. There was also an extra spearhead, a bottle of water and a combat knife. The bottle of water had a little bit left, so he reminds himself to get more tomorrow morning to not die of dehydration. </p><p> </p><p>For the last backpack, he finds a sleeping bag, a pack of dried fruit, a first aid kit and a tool that he can only assume is for filtering water.</p><p> </p><p>Holy shit, he can't believe how lucky he is. </p><p> </p><p>But in closer inspection, he realizes that he took too long to run away from the bloodbath as the sun is now falling with red and orange hues.</p><p> </p><p>He can't help but think of the blood spilled in the arena once he sees the red in the sky, his throat dry from the reminiscence of what he just saw.</p><p> </p><p>And he was so near to being one of those unmoving corpses as well, holy fuck.</p><p> </p><p>He clasps a hand into his mouth, unbelieving of the close call he had and it finally sinking within him.</p><p> </p><p>And the fact that he'll be in fact alone this day makes him quiver more.</p><p> </p><p>He sees a nice spot to sleep on top of a tree and climbs up into it with little to no effort.</p><p> </p><p>He was from the Lumber District after all, so it makes sense for him to get used to climbing trees since that's where he and Tubbo would play in their childhood.</p><p> </p><p>He prepares the sleeping bag on a nice area perched in the sturdy tree branch, a perfect place to sleep in and not fear the threats of being killed.</p><p> </p><p>He can't help but worry for his separated allies but quickly dozed to sleep because of intense fatigue.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Ranboo, do you think they'll be alright?" Tubbo asks worriedly to his ally in the before desolate cave, now lightened up with a nice fireplace, weapons and materials.</p><p> </p><p>The taller man perks up his head, dividing his attention from cleaning the battle axe Tubbo used from blood with extreme perfectionism. "Of course they are. Have ya seen them go? Man." He says with a sigh as he continues cleaning with the already bloody cloth.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know, big man. They just worry me a lot, 's all."</p><p> </p><p>"They'll be <em>finee</em>, Tubbo. Drista is an amazing warrior and absolutely knows what she's doing, while Tommy is, eh, well... <em>Tommy.</em>" He ends rather skeptically. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo groans as he puts his hands into his hair, ruffling it wildly as he bundles his knees near him.</p><p> </p><p>"God, I hope they're fine. I<em> really</em> hope they're fine."</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo only hums as a response, too busy with wiping a stain from the axe. </p><p> </p><p>The Manberg anthem is suddenly played into full volume, alerting the Tributes that it was an official new day, despite morning not yet coming. </p><p> </p><p>The dead Tributes' faces are then shown, Tubbo recognizing them from the corpses he's run through as he retreated with Ranboo into this cave for safety. </p><p> </p><p>The very images of their faces rises bile into his throat again, Ranboo noticing and hurriedly patting him in the back comfortably. </p><p> </p><p>"It's alright, Tubbo. It's alright." Ranboo comforts him softly. </p><p> </p><p>He successfully belches into the stone floor, Ranboo thankfully not getting soaked nor disgusted by it, only continuing his words of support.</p><p> </p><p>He counted all their faces before he looked away.</p><p> </p><p>Eleven.</p><p> </p><p>Eleven children, children with families and friends, backstories and personalities, killed ever so quickly in just one day. </p><p> </p><p>Eleven out of twenty-four Tributes.</p><p> </p><p>Thirteen Tributes left before he can leave safely with Tommy and back to their District.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello just slept a good night sleep aquila here and abiding to my promise to add a fun little note after i slept since the moment i uploaded this chap it was 3 am<br/>dogs are cute.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Gold of the Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Tommy.” A voice calls out to him, it was Wilbur’s voice, he could tell.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> very </em> disappointed in you.” A much younger Wilbur said in a strict tone, his age about eleven. “You should’ve <em> never </em> hurt him. He’s your friend, afterall. Say sorry to him, right now. <em> Sincerely. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>He sees a eight year old Tommy, his eyes looking downcast into the ground and tears welling up. “‘m sorry, Wilby...” The boy wipes his teary eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, avoiding the gaze of his older brother figure.</p><p> </p><p>The brunette sighs as a response and takes in a softer tone as he lowers down into his knees to face the younger. “I shouldn’t be the one you’re apologizing with, it should be Tubbo. Tommy, Tubbo’s your friend, alright? And friends should <em> never </em> hurt each other, no matter how much they annoy you. And when you <em> do </em> hurt them, say sorry instead of insulting them. That’s not pog.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I get it, Wil. I...I get it.” He looks at Wilbur’s face that evidently lights up. “I’ll… I’ll say sorry to Tubbo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good lad.” The brunette says with a smile and pats the other’s blonde hair lovingly, the younger trying to resist the touch to save face but ultimately failing with how gentle it was.</p><p> </p><p>“Off ya go!” He says to the younger as he nudges him away and to the other crying and bundled up brunette. </p><p> </p><p>As Tommy edges ever so awkwardly closer to the friend he hurt, Wilbur can’t help the small smile that plays in his lips.</p><p> </p><p>How Tommy was just like his younger brother, even though they were never related and didn’t even live underneath the same roof. </p><p> </p><p>How he can predict how precious and eternal the two boys’ friendship would be, even through their quarrels and struggles. </p><p> </p><p>How the friendship reminded him so much of one of his own.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head violently, not wanting to think about that boy he once played with and has long forgotten.</p><p> </p><p>Or at least he tried to. </p><p> </p><p>Ah, why should he be thinking of all this stuff when this isn’t even his own dream?</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles a little, leaving the past that Tommy can't seem to let go of.</p><p> </p><p>The whole world then melts back into the revolting reality Tommy was really in.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>The light flashes relentlessly in his eyes, him squinting his eyes uncontrollably and putting his hands to cover the sunlight from his weak eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Finally, you’re awake.” A deep voice speaks gruffly. </p><p> </p><p>He immediately bolts into life, his mind going into a panic mode. </p><p> </p><p>As he does so, a weapon, a trident, is pressed softly into his throat threateningly. </p><p> </p><p>“W-Wha-” Tommy squeaks out alarmingly.</p><p> </p><p>“I suggest that you, well, don’t do that.” The voice says, calm and chilling as ever.</p><p> </p><p>The younger boy tries to look at the man that keeps him in such a hostile situation but the sun still shines its rays dangerously. </p><p> </p><p>“You have to cooperate with me or else I’ll impale this trident through your throat. Now, go down to the ground with me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Why should I, <em> bitch </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“...I literally just said why you should.” The man says, confused on how unnecessarily aggressive the blonde was.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, fine, fine. I’ll cooperate ‘n shit.” Tommy sighs out, putting his hands up to the air hesitantly. </p><p> </p><p>He gets a clear view of his attacker now, his eyes finally used to the bright weather. </p><p> </p><p>The man’s face was something he surely remembered from one of the interviews, the dark green hair and the black sclera that was put on his naturally gold eyes unique and memorable. Thankfully, the black sclera wasn’t natural and was just contact lenses.</p><p> </p><p>But the golden eyes were natural, it’s shine and glimmer addictive to look at.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could permanently put into a trance from those eyes, he peeps at the glittering trident in his hands, glinting with the absolute intent to kill. </p><p> </p><p>It makes him swallow the lump that he didn’t even notice forming in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>“So, uh, well,<em> ehem </em>, big man.” Tommy attempts to start naturally as he goes down from the tree with the other Tribute, his arms still in a passive way. “What do you want?” </p><p> </p><p>The sharp eyes look at him somehow even sharper before glancing at his arm. </p><p> </p><p>The arm in question was actually a bandaged and bloody mess, a ripped cloth as the makeshift bandage. </p><p> </p><p>He sees the teen’s eyes dart to it, and he quickly hides it by moving in an awkward angle that doesn’t show the wound, despite the other already seeing it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been looking for, um, a first aid kit. The other Careers are camping on the Cornucopia already, so I don’t think I can go back… for another backpack with hopes of getting one.”</p><p> </p><p>“And?” Tommy asks, a sort of amusement in his eyes despite being in a situation where his life is in danger.</p><p> </p><p>The greenette obviously sighs, his shoulders hunched in a sort of defeat. “And I just hope you have one and if you don’t, take a free kill standing in front of me.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re saying you’re at the mercy of the <em>great</em> Tommy Innit?” The teen asks, smug and confident, oblivious on the second half of the sentence. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re in a sort of “we die together” thing, so, uh, if that’s how you’d like to see it, go ahead, just know that, well, you are in it too.” </p><p> </p><p>"So, do you have one or not?" Sam, if he remembers, finishes in an impatient manner. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy thinks before he acts, surprisingly, if he should risk being killed in exchange of letting the man slowly die from blood loss or some shit or to help him and potentially be killed after he's proved his usefulness. </p><p> </p><p>He scratches his head messily, Sam looking at him in an unidentifiable way.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps worry, he can't tell.</p><p> </p><p>"How old are you?" He asks, so out of the blue.</p><p> </p><p>"Huh?" Tommy asks, confused as ever. "What does that have to do with anything?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it's just a question that I'm pretty curious to the answer to." Sam replies, his tone dripping nonchalance. </p><p> </p><p>"Sixteen." Tommy mutters ever so quietly. "I'm... sixteen. What-what about you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Sixteen... Sixteen huh...?" The words from the other turned out a bit slurred and grumbled. "I'm... eighteen."</p><p> </p><p>"Pretty old then."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah well... Hey, if this is a distraction for you to think of something up, it isn't helping you in anyway. Just saying."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I wasn't the <em>bastard</em> who thought talking about age was a good icebreaker!" Tommy barks out, the other looking away out of guilt since he knows the younger was right.</p><p> </p><p>"God, just<em> please</em> tell me if you have a first aid kit so I can just<em> leave.</em>" The greenette whispers as he puts his hand into his face exasperatedly.</p><p> </p><p>"Jesus, <em>fuck</em>, I do! Alright, I do." Tommy speaks out, and surprise surprise, he <em>actually</em> thought about his words beforehand and resolved that this was the best solution.</p><p> </p><p>"That solves everything." Sam claps his hands in a slightly cheery way. </p><p> </p><p>The older man motions to the wound in his arm to Tommy, the younger just rolling his eyes and climbing up to the branch to pick up one of the bags with the first aid kit and a little something, making sure not to show the golden apple.</p><p> </p><p>As he gets it out, Sam has already shed the bloody cloth from his arm, looking expectant and patient for the coming medicine. </p><p> </p><p>The wound was a large gash of dried blood and stenched of dying flesh. It looked like it was from a large battleaxe since it looked like something only a large weapon as such could pull off.</p><p> </p><p>"Weren't you from one of the Career Districts? Why aren't ya with your <em>little</em> Career buddies?" Tommy asks mockingly as he tends the wound, making small talk to not have to deal with the shouts of pain that could alert others of his location.</p><p> </p><p>"I.. wasn't very buddy buddy with the other Career Districts actually." Sam replies in a sort of matter-of-factly tone.</p><p> </p><p>"That so? Why?" Tommy continues interviewing as he treats the gash, the other man flinching and making pained noises.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>A-Augh</em>, f-fuck. It's-It's because I didn't want to include with, <em>shit</em>, with them. I fe-felt like it would be ri-risk free to work alone since we don't have-have to go through a massacre o-once we were the last-last people, <em>ack</em>, alive."</p><p> </p><p>"It's done."</p><p> </p><p>"Really? Thank Go-" Sam sighs out in relief before he's slammed into the ground.</p><p> </p><p>The knife from one of the bags glint maliciously into the skin of the other's neck, Tommy's eyes sharp with the intent to kill.</p><p> </p><p>"Move, and I kill you. You're in <em>my</em> mercy now, bitch."</p><p> </p><p>The greenette holds his hands in retreat before he kicks Tommy's knee that propped itself into the ground, causing the other to yelp, and before he knew it, he was in a chokehold, tapping vigorously as he lost air.</p><p> </p><p>The other lets him go and the blonde immediately goes as far as he can from Sam, staggering as he does so, and wheezing and choking in attempts to regain his breath.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think so." Sam seethes as he breathes heavily, the man's golden eyes glinting with the glimmering sun behind him.</p><p> </p><p>As Tommy struggles to intake breath again, Sam stands up to check the backpacks' contents, his eyes widening in what Tommy only presumes was the golden apple.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll be staying here for a while, if you want to leave, you can leave, but you'll be letting go of <em>all</em> of your materials." Sam announces as he dangles the shining fruit with the same color as those <em>goddamn</em> eyes, leaving Tommy's skin to whiten, as the greenette smiles somehow innocently despite his cruelty, to the reaction.</p><p> </p><p>"You wouldn't mind, right?"</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is such a completely off characterization of sam bUT HEY THERES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT SO *finger guns*<br/>thinking of swallowing up my superiority complex when it comes to wattpad and upload this story in that website. its for the maximum clout guys. sacrifice is a needed asset for winning any challenge that comes up your way and my challenge is clout so smile<br/>also, sorry if i dont reply to any of your comments. if i dont reply to your comment, assume i have nothing else creative to say or that if i said anything, itd completely break the story for you so wheeze</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Loneliness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...I’m staying here.” Tommy grumbles out, the greenette looking at him with surprise from the answer.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what the specific reason<em> was, </em> but he wanted to stay here.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps to not be alone in a time where no Tubbo or Drista or Ranboo wasn’t by his side.</p><p> </p><p>Even if it was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him for their own survival.</p><p> </p><p>“W-What?” Sam stutters out, clearly not ready for such a response, Tommy smirking at the sheer confusion the older had. </p><p> </p><p>He gets closer, Sam keeping his stand but flinching slightly. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m<em> not </em> just going to let you walk away with my shit, scot-free.” Tommy says, a smug tone and all. “You may have my things, but I am going to be downright <em> irritating.” </em> He finishes smugly. <em>  “Intentionally. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The older man quickly tries to recover from the impulsive choice of the other, clearing his throat briskly. </p><p> </p><p>“Is that so?” Sam asks, keeping his composure level.</p><p> </p><p>He never expected this, really.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Yes.” </em> Tommy replies rather bluntly. </p><p> </p><p>“... There’s a chance that I’d kill you if you’re with me, you know that, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I’ll just kill you before you kill me, as easy as that.”</p><p> </p><p>“T-That’s,<em> hah </em>,” And Sam laughs, something he hasn’t done for what seemed like years, from a threat to his life nonetheless. </p><p> </p><p>Now it was Tommy’s turn to look at the other in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>Sam uncharacteristically sets his hand on the other’s shoulder, the action making Tommy flinch.</p><p> </p><p>It almost feels like Wilbur or perhaps Phil…</p><p> </p><p>But they didn’t threaten to <em> kill </em> him, so that’s definitely a downgrade. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh God,” Sam says between laughs, the noises slowly decreasing. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine, I’ll let you stay here. I-I can make you useful, I guess.” He finally allows, leading Tommy to brighten up.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe if they were no such thing as the Hunger Games, they’d be the best of friends, dissolving all hostility towards each other and fully gaining a bond of mutual and strong trust.</p><p> </p><p>But they weren’t.</p><p> </p><p>The Games existed and they were playing it for everyone to see. </p><p> </p><p>Truly unfortunate.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>“Ranboo,” Tubbo speaks up, peeking at the beautiful sun as he finishes his plate of cooked rabbit. “I reckon we search for Tommy and Drista already.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Are you sure, Tubbo?” Ranboo asks, concern evidently flooding his face. “If we go now, we’ll have to leave this campsite… That’d be <em> terrible. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine, big man. We can just return to it once we find them.” Tubbo waves his hand in a sort of comforting manner. “It’s just.. I’m really worried for ‘em, y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo sighs, exasperated with the overwhelming concern the other had ever since they started camping in the cave.</p><p> </p><p>“...Fine.” Ranboo begrudgingly whispers. “Fine, w-we’ll look for them. I’m,<em> well </em>, worried for them too.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo visibly brightens, hopping out of the ground he sat on and going headfirst to their materials to pack up for the search.</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo faintly smiles, impressed with how loyal and determined the older was. He stands up as well from his seat and helps Tubbo with packing.</p><p> </p><p>He was ready to lay his life to protect the other if the situation calls for it, he thinks to himself, as he puts the materials to the bags they grasped from the Cornucopia and dead bodies they found throughout their journey to the comforts of the cave. </p><p> </p><p>He’s truly going to miss this cave, the hollow darkness of it both irking and comforting. </p><p> </p><p>As Tubbo was the only one who had a weapon, Ranboo was assigned to carry most of the bags. </p><p> </p><p>The cave was almost empty, the only remaining objects were the put out fireplace and their garbage. </p><p> </p><p>So, they muttered their final goodbyes to their campsite, taking off to find the rest of their alliance.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>She was alone throughout the whole night.</p><p> </p><p>There were no Tributes who threatened her life, as she was perched nicely in a sturdy tree branch.</p><p> </p><p>She had no sleeping bag, so she made do with a bunch of leaves as her blanket and the backpack as her pillow.</p><p> </p><p>She was able to flee from the bloodbath of the Cornucopia, but she suffered a cut in her ankle from a Career’s sword, the blade ruining her boots.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t anything painful nor fatal, so she shook it off and didn’t treat it. Even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to because she had no first aid kit with her. </p><p> </p><p>The feeling of something or someone looking at her creeps her and the faint whiz of a sound, resulting in her turning around to look in a flurry of panic.</p><p> </p><p>And she meets eye to eye with it. </p><p> </p><p>It was a flying camera, looking directly at her face. It’s lenses were pitch black and it’s base was a pure white, the color that the Capitol was always adorned with.</p><p> </p><p>She waves in a friendly manner, devoid of true politeness and sincerity and only was done to save face in front of the people of the Capitol.</p><p> </p><p>It sickens her that she had to deal with acting like some doll when her life is clearly in danger.</p><p> </p><p>She wonders if this was how Clay felt as well with the many times he was interviewed and recorded even during the times he was one stroke away from death.</p><p> </p><p>Him being a fan favorite didn’t help either, from the constant invasions of privacy from fans and everyday pushes to be interviewed by a floating camera in his own home, even when he already finished his time.</p><p> </p><p>The camera thankfully whooshes away from her, probably looking for a more interesting person to watch.</p><p> </p><p>A heavy breath leaves her, something that she didn’t even know she kept the whole time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>“Tubbo,” Ranboo speaks up, the other turning to look at him in response. “It’s about sunset already, we might have to make a campsite or something.”</p><p> </p><p>The older looks at the sky, not even noticing how the once light blue hues were now of an orange haze. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh.” He mutters, deadpanned. “We weren’t even able to find them...”</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo is quick to try to cheer him up, not wanting him to be disappointed and in low spirits. “It’s-It’s cool, Tubbo! We can look for them tomorrow, alright? We can look for them tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are so pog, big man. Has anyone told you that?” Tubbo pipes up, inching closer to Ranboo with a smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, they call me “my beloved” and “gender man” so I guess that counts?” Ranboo quips, resulting in Tubbo laughing rather loudly.</p><p> </p><p>Due to Ranboo's proposal for shelter, they delve deep into the woods and find a good place to stay for a while. They step on a few leaves, the crunch loud and crisp, yet they still tried to minimize the noise to deter any opponents to strike them. </p><p> </p><p>Ranboo could feel eyes looking at them, but he shakes it off as paranoia since the view behind them was clear of any trails beside their own.</p><p> </p><p>The weather wasn't very cold, so that was definitely good, and they finally settle in a spot with trees covering the area. The shadow of the trees' makeshift canopy of leaves was an absolute good characteristic that led them to place their belongings there. </p><p> </p><p>They don't make a fireplace this time, since the smoke could alert and invite others to slaughter them. Tubbo misses it, of course, the heat of the fireplace calmed his nerves of being killed, but he was determined to not show it.</p><p> </p><p>This whole "search for your friends because you miss them a lot and fear for their safety but endanger you and a tree as a sixteen year old" plan was all his idea, and he didn't want to show his regret to possibly anger the aforementioned tree of a sixteen year old.</p><p> </p><p>So, he bears the burden and pain he's feeling right now as much as he can.</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo was currently resting with his back on one of the trunks of the trees, tired from the weight he's carried.</p><p> </p><p>As Tubbo rummages through the materials from their bags for food, he hears a yelp from behind.</p><p> </p><p>He turns quick and alarmedly, the sight of his ally being held on the neck with a dangerous and sharp knife.</p><p> </p><p>And it was from...</p><p> </p><p>Michael.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't move!" </p><p> </p><p>The cogs in Tubbo's mind churn, and he analyses the boy's appearance.</p><p> </p><p>He looks definitely messier, his before clean brown locks now rugged. His birthmarked face was dirty with hints of dried blood and mud, cheeks hollowed. His eyes looked dazed and unfocused, looking like hunger took its toll on him.</p><p> </p><p>And Tubbo almost feels sorry for him, if only the little boy didn't have a knife next to his ally's neck. </p><p> </p><p>He puts his hands in a comforting manner, he hopes, and tries to give a docile approach to the boy.</p><p> </p><p>Michael subtly backs down a little before he edges the knife nearer to Ranboo's neck, the victim whispering a little "That's not good." underneath his breath.</p><p> </p><p>"Michael, it's okay, we won't hurt you, alright? If you let Ranboo go," Tubbo gestures to their food. "We'll give you a few of our food. Is that fine? You look really hungry, I can see it. This would be <em>really</em> beneficial for us. Think about it." He gulps the forming lump on his throat, hoping to sound convincing and enticing to the youngling. </p><p> </p><p>Michael seems to ponder it for a moment, his arms going slowly slack, Ranboo breaking away from the boy's hold hurriedly, gasping for breath. </p><p> </p><p>He helps Ranboo up, patting his back and consoling him. He gives him time to breathe, his eyes darting back to Michael.</p><p> </p><p>Michael was crying.</p><p> </p><p>Sobs uncontrollably are let out of his mouth, huge globs of tears forming and streaming into his sky blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The two teens' hearts sting, the figure of the twelve year old breaking down inflicting emotional pain to them.</p><p> </p><p>They could understand, empathize even, the boy was stripped of his innocent youth and forced to survive in a Games that pressured others to kill for survival.</p><p> </p><p>In just the ripe age of twelve.</p><p> </p><p>The thought of Lani and Teagen presumably break down like the boy in front of him leads him to approach and tentatively hug the boy, making his movements slow to not startle him.</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo joins in as well, sympathy overcoming his large and soft heart.</p><p> </p><p>Michael sobs even harder, clutching the clothing of the two teens so hard that they thought he imagined they'd go away the moment he didn't.</p><p> </p><p>And that led sobs to escape the two, choking on them to not frighten the hunched down figure of the child.</p><p> </p><p>"Michael," Tubbo speaks up, his throat hoarse. "Would you like to stay with us? In this shelter?"</p><p> </p><p>Ranboo looks at him in a concerned way, but quickly nods it away, his compassion backing Tubbo's act of kindness.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes!" Michael practically sobs out, overcome with joy. "Please..." </p><p> </p><p>They take in the boy that night, silently promising that they will lay down to protect this boy's innocence, brotherly affection creeping into them.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She opens her eyes to the sight of disgustingly pure white walls, it’s cleanliness mocking her with its prism stare.</p><p> </p><p>Despite its seemingly clean appearance, the marble white floors are littered with splotches of dried blood that came from the people before her.</p><p> </p><p>She heaves in a deep breath before she shrieks in pain. In a desperate and weak movement, she pulls up her shirt, only to look with teary eyes at the many disgustingly vibrant colors from the bruises scattered in her whole torso.</p><p> </p><p>She studies her surroundings, looking at them with sheer terror.</p><p> </p><p>The whole room was white, enough to make a perfectly sane man delve into insanity for three days because of how mockingly perfect it was. There was a toilet, sink, mirror and a bed that she was currently laying on.</p><p> </p><p>A sob escapes her lips, perhaps regretting her actions that led her to such a situation.</p><p> </p><p>Her impulsivity became the long awaited downfall she hoped would never have come. </p><p> </p><p>She could feel a figure looking at her through the glass that separated her and the outside.</p><p> </p><p>A deep voice thick with a relaxing accent greets her, not even having to spare a glance to know who it was. “Hello, Niki.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eret.”</p><p> </p><p>She hears him sit in a chair from outside the glass window, affirming that he’d stay here for a while or so. </p><p> </p><p>The man was wearing black pants, a fancy dress shirt with puffy sleeves and ended with cuffs designed with a golden lining. A cape draped on top of his shoulders, the outer of the cape crimson red and the inner a magenta pink, royal blue and purple. His shiny dark black platform shoes made his already tall stature even taller and the golden crown perched on his head was topped with colorful candy-like jewels. </p><p> </p><p>Despite the man wearing midnight black shades, she could see the worry from the creases of his eyebrows to the little movement of his hand about to try to help her up, only stopping when he remembered the clear barrier keeping him from doing so.</p><p> </p><p>Eret chirps to break the uncomfortable and seemingly eternal silence.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re all fine, Drista, Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo, they’re still alive. Just thought you’d want to kno-”</p><p> </p><p>“Do they have enough materials? Each of them? Do they have shelter? A weapon?” Niki interrupts, concern etched in her face.</p><p> </p><p>“...They’re fine, Niki.” He says, hiding the fact that Tommy was with a dangerous individual and that Tubbo and Ranboo were protecting a boy outside of their alliance to make Niki less stressed than she is already. </p><p> </p><p>He could sense the relief that went through Niki’s bruised and broken body. Looking at the girl made even him fearful for her condition and situation. He coughs to distract himself at least from the concern, and the silence settles within them.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you here, Eret?” Niki asks emotionlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“...I’m worried, Niki. The only thing keeping you from dying was your father…”</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t have to...” Niki mutters, thinking of how much trouble her father has gone through from her not so subtle acts of rebellion.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t tell a parent to stop caring for their child, Niki. Especially yours. You’re his only child, and your mother just died last year, so of course he’d treasure you more.” </p><p> </p><p>She sighs, brand new tears welling up. “H-How did my father know I was about to be killed by Schlatt?”</p><p> </p><p>“He was given the same letter as yours,” Eret says, ever so softly. “After that, he began making endless proposals to Schlatt<em> just </em> so he couldn’t kill you.”</p><p> </p><p>She chuckles, no amusement in it at all. She tries to sit up, but panic ensues within her when she couldn’t move a single limb. “E-Eret, I-I, I can’t, I can’t<em> move. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“That-That’s because you didn’t<em> submit </em> , Niki.” Eret affirms with a concerned tone. “If only you submitted, you could have gone to this cell without a <em> single </em> scratch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you’d know <em> all </em> about submitting, wouldn’t you, <em> Eret </em> ?” She barks out, eyes widening with what she just said. “O-Oh, <em> God </em>, I’m s-so sorry-”</p><p> </p><p>He puts a hand up to signal her to stop. “I do, Niki. I admit, I have submitted easily to the hands of the Capitol.” He stands up and looks at her with determination in those clear white eyes with no pupil or retina. “And <em> that’s </em> why I’m still alive.”</p><p> </p><p>The moment when she thought he was about to leave, he still stays there, looking at her with a tragic despondency. </p><p> </p><p>“Niki, I,um, don’t really <em> forgive </em> myself for betraying Wilbur in my time in the Games, even though it’s been a year.” Eret starts. “The guy was someone that I could never be. There was a time when I admired him. But, I,” He takes a deep breath. “My desire for survival overcame my loyalty...” </p><p> </p><p>“But, yo-your forgiveness after all of what I've done to your friend is the <em>only</em> thing that keeps me going. I-I don’t want you to leave this world, <em>alright?</em> <em>No one does.</em> You’re important to the people who are <em>still</em> alive, Niki. I suggest you stop chasing a dead man’s dream, no matter how t-tempting it is. Wil-Wil would've wanted it too.”</p><p> </p><p>Niki looks directly at the sorrowful eyes of the brunette, nodding slightly, even though they both knew she would never listen. </p><p> </p><p>As he leaves the room behind the glass, she quietly looks at the blank walls, the only thing that keeps her company in this empty space of a hellhole. </p><p> </p><p>And before she knows it, she weeps from the now settling loneliness.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the overly late chapter. i had to do school assessments that i didn't even know exist until my teachers gave me performance updates about them so thats nice. i reread this entire fic and i just realized how short my chapters are-</p>
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